The Difference
by SleepingwithinWater
Summary: What if it was Jehan Prouvaire who was the one to lay eyes upon the fair Cosette first, not Marius Pontmercy? What if Cosette joined the revolution because of a few simple words that changed her life? One look, a string of words, fearless men, and countless lives was all it took for her world to flip.
1. The Robbery Was How It Began

_Jehan needs some love, too._ I'm pretty sure I ship the strangest things ever. I saw this photo on tumblr once of Jehan/Eponine, but I couldn't do that (although, it has the potential to be hella cute) because I figured Jehan/Cosette would be cuter. I mean, come on, the guy loves flowers, poetry, and love. Cosette is basically a flower who loves poetry (maybe?). (Side note being everyone is based off of the new movie. So Alistair (he's so presh), Amanda, yada yada.)

Without further adieu, I give you _The Difference._

* * *

_Summary: What if it was Jehan Prouvaire was the one to lay eyes upon the fair Cosette first, not Marius Pontmercy? What if Cosette joined the revolution because of a few simple words that changed her life? One look, a string of words, fearless men, and countless lives was all it took for her world to flip. _

_Parings: Jehan/Cosette,__ Enjolras/Eponine_

_The Robbery Was How It Began_

"Papa, that man there." Cosette nudged her father's side to alert him to the poor beggar upon the corner of the street. Her heart went out to him. He looked so cold, so hungry, so _alone_.

Her farther chuckled, almost sadly. "Cosette, my child, we cannot help every man, woman, and child in all of Paris. Many need our help, but we have not yet even reached the square yet."

"Oh, but, Papa, he's noticed us speaking of him now. We must." Cosette stood awkwardly before her father, trying not to look over her shoulder at the man.

Valjean sighed. He could never resist her charm, her heart for people less fortunate. Digging into his pocket, he placed two silver coins in her hand. "Since this is so important to you, you give it to him."

Cosette looked at the coins, then her father. She smiled and squeezed his arm, thanking him silently. She turned to walk to the corner, not before looking over her shoulder toward her Papa once more. When the corner was before her, she knelt before the man and handed him the coins. His old eyes shinned with tears.

"_Merci, mademoiselle,_" his breath came out ragged and sick.

Cosette mustered the cheeriest smile she could. "_Non. _My pleasure, _monsieur. _Stay warm, please." she squeezed his hand, too, before nearly running back to her father. A tear fell down her cheek when she reached him. "Papa, we should- never mind."

Valjean took his daughter's arm and didn't press the subject. He knew, of course, what she was going to say. She was going to ask if they could leave the convent and buy a larger home and allow all the poor to live within it. The two of them both knew, though, that was impossible. He patted her arm to show is understanding. As their walk continued, Valjean took deep pride in his life. He had money to spare, a wonderful, _beautiful_, home, and a daughter he loved more than anything in the world. Should ever anyone take any of those things away... He shuddered at the thought.

The square came into view and the two began to do their weekly rounds. Cosette seemed oddly distracted, though; she kept looking over her shoulder. Valjean nearly had to pull her along. That was until a man came up and beckoned him inside his "shack." He asked Cosette to stay outside, in case of sickness. Cosette simply nodded. When his back disappeared, Cosette turned around and searched for him, that _boy_. When they had walked into the square, Cosette had been focused on nothing more than the poor; then she had lifted her head.

There he was. Standing by one of the pillars with another man, handing out flyers. He was taller than she, considerably so. Red hair was ablaze atop his head. His face bore a perfect smile. A cockade was pinned to his blue jacket. When his gaze met her's, Cosette was sure the world stopped. But then she was forced to look away by the tugs from her father. Now that her father was gone..

Cosette looked over her shoulder and crossed the square street slowly. She never took her eyes off the man; the same went for him. When she reached him, he twitched his nose nervously. The man beside him had light brown hair and a smoking pipe sticking from his mouth; he laughed to himself and walked away to another corner. Cosette barely noticed him.

"_Bonjour_," she whispered.

"_Bonjour_," he answered.

After a moment, Cosette looked to his hands. "I couldn't help but notice you're handing out flyers."

He seemed surprised he was holding them himself. "Flyers? Oh. Yes. Flyers. It's for the revolution." Cosette nodded and took the one he extended. "I am a part of it, I suppose. Joly is, too." he looked around for the other man. "Where.. where is he?"

"He seemed to think he needed to occupy another corner, _monsieur._"

The man looked back at her and smiled. "My name is Jehan Prouvaire, _mademoiselle._"

"And I am Cosette-"

She felt a hand pull on her's. Turning her head quickly, Cosette met the searching and bewildered eyes of her father. "Papa?" she whispered. Something was wrong; she could feel it.

"Come, Cosette, we must go." he paid no attention to Jehan, who stood by helplessly confused. "Come along now." Valjean pulled her arm around a corner, away from Javert.

Before she was about of his eye-sight, Cosette raised the flyer in the air. "Thank you, _monsieur._"

Jehan blinked several times before righting himself. "Cosette," he whispered. "Lovely name for a lovely face."

* * *

Several nights later, Cosette stood by her window, thinking of the man in the square. She curled her fingers around the windowsill and rolled onto her tip-toes. The flyer lay on her desk a few feet away.

_When did it say the next meeting was? Thursday? Isn't that tomorrow? _

Cosette stepped over and picked up the flyer, reading through the words for the billionth time; by now, she had the words memorized. The door to her room opened without warning and Cosette shoved the flyer behind her back. Her father stepped into, ducking so he didn't hit his head on the doorframe.

"I came to tell you goodnight," he said, surveying her room.

Cosette stared at him with a tight-lipped smile and wide eyes. "Goodnight, Papa."

Valjean moved to say something else, but stopped himself. The day had been toiling enough for the girl' she'd been helping the nuns prepare for the new novices who would be arriving any day. He nodded, more to himself, then headed for the door. "Wait," he heard. "May I go to the market tomorrow, Papa? The open-air one, in the square?"

Valjean studied his daughter for a moment. She never went anywhere alone, never asked to either. He had a meeting with one of the nuns in the convent the next day, it would surely take all day, seeing as how the nuns liked to ramble in Valjean's presence. Wringing his hand over his left wrist, Valjean nodded very slowly. "I suppose it would be alright." Cosette smiled. "What time would you be home?"

"Well, I was thinking I might stop at _Mademoiselle _Isabelle's house for tea. She invited me over ages ago, and I never was able to.."

Valjean raised an eyebrow. "So evening time, then?"

Cosette nodded. "Yes.." she answered cautiously. In all honesty, she didn't know when she would return; she also knew Isabelle was away in Italy visiting her grandmother's.

"Just this once, Cosette. I only want for you to be safe, child." after a moment of staring, Valjean smiled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Papa. And thank you!"

* * *

Cosette rooted around in her wardrobe for the simplest dress she could find. Her father was gone to a meeting with the head nun and Cosette was left alone to get ready for the meeting. Valjean had left with her a list of two or three things they needed from the market, so Cosette would have to leave earlier than she planned, earlier than she liked. Amidst all her excitement for seeing Jehan Prouvaire again, talking with him once more, she was more than nervous for this meeting. Whatever it was about, it seemed dangerous. Cosette had heard of the students threatening revolution; she'd also heard a little about the group that met at the Café Musain, _Les Amis _they were called. Nothing more than a group of schoolboys who thought they could change the world with words on paper and powder in guns. Cosette, who normally kept her opinions to herself, had confined in one of the nuns the previous day, telling her that _Les Amis_ were wasting their God-given talents on recreational "sports" than using them for schooling, which was what they were all there for.

The nun, Sister Célestine, had simply laughed at Cosette, while pulling the sheets tighter on the bed they were making up. "You will change your mind, _mademoiselle_, once you meet them."

Cosette had straightened up at this. "Have you met them, Sister?"

Sister Célestine only shrugged before beckoning her onto the other rooms.

Finally, Cosette gave up. She donned the plainest dress she had: a straight deep purple gown, with sleeves that puffed because of the clasped wrists. Her black shoes were well-hidden and her hair she left in her braid, not without pulling a ribbon of purple through it. Cosette chose to leave the cage at home; wearing it would have meant she took up much more room and it would have been incredibly awkward. This way, she would slip into the back and simply listen.

Cosette left the house quickly, careful to remember her basket. The walk to the market couldn't be too far and from there, the café must only be a few blocks. She would make fine time. It was really the first time Cosette had been brave enough to venture out on her own. Of course, she was nervous about suddenly being pulled back by her waist and hidden away for the rest of her life, but what were the odds of that?

It took much strength as well to not stop at every corner and encourage every begger. Cosette had only the few coins her father had given her and the ones of her own, just in case. This trip was about her; this trip was about finding Jehan and.. learning..

As she rounded the corner for the market, Cosette smiled to herself. It was teeming with people of all shapes and sizes; Cosette had never seen so many people in all of her life. Glancing around, she gave a thought to her time frame. She needed to find the vegetables and apples her father needed and make her way to the café. Luckily, none of the items needed to be kept cold, so the prospect of them spoiling was not on her side.

Cosette soon found the beets and potatoes, paying what was due. Then she collected the four apples and was on her way. Although she had left at mid-afternoon, the meeting was for early evening and Cosette was soon running out of time. She had meandered too long through all the stalls and talked to one-too-many beggars along the way. She picked up her pace.

Thankfully, the Café Musain was just in her view. Orange light streamed from the open windows and Cosette could smell freshly baked bread and over-fermented beer. More than a few people were crowded around the door and several men were bringing long benches outside. She supposed they thought more people would come and the meeting would have to be held outdoors. Cosette looked up into the quickly darkening sky; they might be correct, but it also looked as if it might rain any moment. Cosette held her tiny basket closer and suddenly felt very small. While she wasn't the only woman at the meeting, she knew she was softer than the rest.

Cosette squared her shoulders and slipped into the café. Another bench was open in the back, besides a small boy- maybe twelve- who was sleeping at the end of it. Just as the meeting the started, so did the rain. The few people unlucky enough to be caught outside either turned away or made their way in. Cosette felt sorry for whoever ran the shop. She highly doubted _everyone_ present was buying something to keep them here.

Folding her hands in her lap, Cosette steadied herself; her nerves were getting the best of her. She looked up and around the room. Young men were scattered around the large room, all wearing the same cockade. _Les Amis_, she assumed. She turned her head to the right and there he was again, that man, _Jehan. _And he was making his way toward her, a triumphant, heart-breaking smile on his face.

* * *

I'd really like to know what everyone thought. Please give me your honest opinion! Thanks so much.

Jess


	2. Meetings Are Not To Be Forgotten

_I'm still a little bit wary with this story, but thanks to those who favorited/followed/reviewed._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C and E/E_

_Meetings Are Not To Be Forgotten_

Cosette looked over her shoulder just to make sure Jehan wasn't heading for something, or someone, else. She felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster as he was, in fact, advancing for her. In haste, she stood up quickly, receiving a few odd looks from those around her. Jehan finally reached her, after much maneuvering through people and their belongings. He motioned toward the bench she'd once sat on; Cosette looked at it like it was a foreign concept, before regaining her wits.

She sat down with a timid smile. Jehan leaned in a little closer; Cosette pulled back just some. He didn't, tried, not to let it phase him.

"You came?" he whispered.

Cosette could only nod. She was too busy staring at his features. He looked up from the floor after a pause of thought.

"What do you think?"

Her eyes widened. "What?" she blushed. "Oh. The rally? I think it is very.. enrapturing, _monsieur._"

Jehan nodded. "Do you.. agree with anything he says?"

Cosette looked over at the man now standing on the bar. His face was red with passion and his fist was clenched. Although a little awkward looking, he was certainly pleasing to the eye and he had a way with words; one could get lost in them. In truthfulness, she hadn't really been paying attention. She'd had no chance. For Jehan had come over, not before staring her down, causing her heart to beat faster, and her mind to grow fuzzy. As she looked at the man speaking, she caught the words 'equality,' 'rights,' 'our freedom,' and 'my friends.'

Cosette knew he was one of the many radicals finally showing their faces. She only nodded, shrugging, to Jehan, hoping he wouldn't press any more questions. Instead, she decided to ask the questions.

"You are one of them, are you not, _monsieur_?"

Jehan grinned. "_Oui, mademoiselle_."

"I have heard a certain name for your rabble of a group.. _Les Amis_, was it?" she smiled softly. "I think it has a nice ring to it."

Jehan leaned back against the wall for a short moment, then, as if remembering something, straightened himself. "Yes. Enjolras," he nodded to the man speaking. "Seems to think we'll go down in history." he laughed cooly; Cosette felt her heart flutter once more.

"I am sure you will, what with his fancy words and fiery temper."

"You haven't seen the half of it, _mademoiselle_." he winked.

Cosette had to stifle a gasp. Never in her life had a man been so.. forward. It was only a wink, after all, but Cosette nearly melted when it happened. She could feel her cheeks turn bright red and her palms begin to moisten. It had been a mistake to come here; whatever it was Jehan wanted, well.. he wouldn't get it from her.

She stood up quickly, embarrassed and a little _triste_. In her haste to return home, the bench she had occupied wobbled some and the others resting on it turned toward her in anger. Jehan stood up as well, moving to take her elbow and lead her wherever it was she was going. Cosette pulled away, though, her eyes on the ground. She said a hushed goodbye and scrambled toward the door, basket in hand. Jehan made a motion of some sort to Joly, warding him off, as he followed Cosette out of the café.

When she made it into fresh air, Cosette nearly doubled over in nerves and relief. The feeling of anxiety only heightened when Jehan appeared behind her back once more. Cosette clutched her middle and fell back a few steps. With concerned eyes, Jehan reached out his hands to steady her; it only drove the girl further away.

"_Mademoiselle_, are you alright? Is something wrong? Did Enjolras say any-"

Cosette shook her head vigorously. She swallowed and closed her eyes. "No, no, _monsieur_. Your friend said nothing to offend me. I.. I was feeling.. a little out of the weather. Un-under the weather, I mean. I think I should return home. My Papa is probably wondering where I am."

Jehan didn't buy it, not in the slightest. "There is something else, _non_? You look too nervous to be feeling sick. Come back inside; I'll fetch you some water, if you like, and you can go upstairs to rest."

Cosette's eyes flashed with anger. What did he take her for? A common street whore? Well, she was nothing of the sort! Her father had raised her to wait for the best, for the one whom loved her enough to move all the waters in the ocean. This.. this _radical _was nothing more than a liar and a cheat.

Steadying herself, Cosette lifted her chin. "No, _monsieur_. Goodness no. I don't exactly know nor understand what it is that you want from me, but I can make a guess. You shall not have it. Find yourself some.. prostitute who is more than willing down at the docks tonight. Now, I bid you a good-evening!" she pulled at her loose sleeve, turned on her heel, and headed back toward home quick as she could. Though the tears welling in her eyes, clouded her way, she was sure she would make it home okay.

Behind her, Jehan stood with an open mouth and confused head. He tried to force some sound to come out to stop her, but her words swam around in his head over and over. Oh, he had gotten it wrong, so wrong.

* * *

It was well past midnight when Enjolras finally took his first breath after the rally was over. He so hoped at least one soul had been moved into joining. It seemed every rally there was one more woman present and one less man. Not that this mattered to Enjolras; just as long as _someone _was listening. Though women would be.. somewhat helpful in his fight for justice, men were really what he needed. As he bid adieu to his friends for the night, Enjolras slowly packed away his mound a papers. He had a large report due the next day in.. was it Latin class? Or history? He couldn't remember. Either way, he had to put the finishing touches on it, and then he would be done for the night. Now if only he could locate the damned thing..

Behind him, he could hear the door the the café being opened once more, but Enjolras mistook it as one of _Les Amis _either leaving or returning to retrieve a forgotten item. He didn't actually expect it to be _her_.

"I listened in tonight, _monsieur_," she said quietly. Although his back was toward her, Enjolras knew she was leaning against the doorframe of the back room, her hand resting below her cheek.

What had it been? Four days since he'd last seen her?

Enjolras turned around, his bundle tucked underneath his arm. "Good evening, Eponine." he smiled warily.

Eponine sported a smile in return. She cocked her head toward the door. "Walk me partially home?"

He raised an eyebrow. Never fully home. "Of course. Just let me get a drink of water first."

"Please," she replied.

As Enjolras reached for his water, Eponine lifted her hand to her cheekbone, making sure her hair was covering the spot. When he turned around, she quickly dropped her hand. Enjolras hoisted the bundle up a little more and started for the door, Eponine caught up with him outside.

"So, _monsieur_, I think that was your best turn out yet."

Enjolras looked over at her. "Really? I could not tell."

Eponine smirked. "I hardly think you were even aware anyone was watching you."

He blushed. "Well, when one gets swept up in the moment.."

Eponine nodded like she understood. "Yes."

There was an awkward lull like usual in their conversation. It was the fifth time Enjolras had walked Eponine partially home. Neither knew what exactly was going on between them, but Eponine secretly hoped it was something a little more than friendship. She'd long since gotten over Marius. She finally realized that she was in love with the idea of Marius, not the man. It had been such a burden lifted from her shoulders when she finally gave up being his shadow. At least Enjolras somewhat noticed her..

They walked along in silence, companionable silence, though. Finally, Enjolras asked, "Montparnasse?"

Eponine frowned. "Excuse me?"

Enjolras pointed with his free hand to her bruise. "Montparnasse again?"

Eponine hesitated then shrugged. Enjolras stopped walking and switched the bundle to his other arm. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her bruise. Eponine fought the urge to close her eyes and lean into his touch. It was not a loving one, simply inquisitive. Maybe in time.

She brushed his hand away then. "I am alright, _monsieur_. Just a little bruise."

"You did not answer my question. Was it him?"

Eponine looked at him with sheepish eyes. "That is possible."

"Why?"

She sighed. "I may have stuck my foot in my mouth. I deserved it anyway, _monsieur_. Don't worry about me." she smiled sadly and motioned him to keep walking.

Enjolras lurched forward and grabbed her wrist. "You didn't deserve it," he stated.

Eponine wrinkled her nose. "If you'd have been there-"

"If I'd have been there, I would have stopped him. No woman should be treated as such."

Eponine wriggled her hand free and smiled in silent thanks. "I can make it home from here, _Monsieur _Enjolras."

* * *

Whatever Cosette thought about herself getting home alright, had been wrong. The tears were inevitable. Jehan had more than scared her; he'd made her feel used. Being out and about for the first time alone, going to a meeting that was most likely illegal, feeling alive and free, feeling giddy when so close to Jehan, feeling used when she thought she knew what he was after, well, they were more than too many feelings at once for poor Cosette to handle.

She'd some how ended up in the beginnings of the Red Light District, more than three miles away from her home. When she finally regained her senses, and pieced together where she actually was, Cosette felt butterflies creep into her stomach. If she turned back, she could maybe find some old baker who would be willing to send her in the right direction.

But, something was so enticing about this side of town.

Of course, she'd never been on this side; she had rarely even heard stories. Though, once Sister Cathrine had told her the tale of a young girl who headed in to hand out bread, and she never returned. Cosette hardly thought the tale was true.

Slowly, she took a few steps forward, and one step back. _Just a few minutes_, she told herself.

At first, it was all the same, but soon she stumbled upon the infamous brothels. She could smell the stench what felt like sixty yards away, and with them packed so closely together, it was unbearable. Men all around her were bloodshot from beer and "love." They looked her over with ravenous eyes and Cosette pulled her shawl tighter.

A hand fell on her hair.

Cosette yelped from surprise and drew away, turning around on her heel. The woman behind her was well beyond her years. Her skin sagged and her hair was falling out in clumps. A row of rotted teeth peered out from behind broken and blood crusted lips.

"Oh my dear, my dear," she whispered again and again, reached for Cosette's hair.

"Get away from me," Cosette whispered in return, harshly.

"Now now! I can give you a pretty penny for these locks. I once knew a woman with the most beautiful-" the woman stopped. Dawning of recognition shinned in her eyes. "Yes. I might've thought."

"What?" Cosette was quickly back up for the exit; she needed to get home.

"Your name is Cosette, correct?"

The girl stopped. "How would you know that?"

"The woman used to murmur it in her sleep."

Her heart raced from fear. "What woman?"

The elderly woman licked her lips. "I can tell you.. for a price."

This had to be a trick. Of course it was. But the woman knew her name! Cosette raised an eyebrow. She pulled out ten francs. The other grabbed it with grubby hand and looked it over as if it were the finest bread. Then she looked up and pointed one long finger at the young girl.

"I can tell _you _about _your _mother."


	3. What She Really Is

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; slight E/E_

_(For future reference, that indicates the parings presented in each chapter; just in case you were wondering.)_

_What She Really Is_

Cosette felt her heart race, then stop, race then stop. She couldn't catch her breath. She saw stars. The ground beneath her wobbled. But soon, she felt a hand on her elbow, guiding her to a stone bench. She sat down with a heavy sigh and a hand upon her chest.

"_Mademoiselle_, are you well?"

The old woman shooed the man who tried to help her away. She then sat beside Cosette, taking her hand into her's. Cosette turned and stared at her with wide, fearful eyes. Her mother? Cosette.. Cosette never, ever heard a lick of information about her mother. Her father refused to touch the subject at all. When she had been younger, she had lived with an inn-keeper, his wife, and their child, what was it? Esmeralda? Eponine? The fact of the matter was, Cosette didn't know what to do. She didn't know whether to trust the woman or not. So, she tried to at least get an inkling of who she was.

Cosette licked her dry lips. "Your name, _Madame_?"

The woman frowned and leaned away. "Why would you need to know that?"

Cosette looked away for an answer. "So I know who I am addressing, of course."

The woman looked wary, but complied. "_Madame Lombert_."

Good; a name. Just in case the woman tried to kill her, Cosette would know who she was. "_Merci, Madame. _Now, you say you know about.. my mother?"

_Madame _grinned a toothless grin. "Certainly. One of my finest customers. I got a pretty penny for that hair of hers."

At this, Cosette turned to face _Madame _fully; she placed her hands on her lap and wrung them together. "What are you saying?"

_Madame _shook her head and held out her hand, intending for more to be given. Cosette sighed; she didn't have any more money with her. She'd brought only what she needed for the market. "I have nothing, _Madame_."

"Well," she began, cocking her head to the side. "You could give me this." _Madame _held up Cosette's shaking hand and pointed to the thin gold ring on her finger.

It had been a birthday present from her father; one of her favorite possessions. If what this woman was saying actually held any weight, it would be a fair trade indeed. Cosette slid the ring from her finger and placed it in the woman's hand.

"_Bien. Maintient__. _Your mother came to us one day down here looking for money. She'd just lost her job and was in need of a way to pay a man who took care of her child. At first, she only wished to sell this old, silver locket; a piece of her girl's hair was inside. A man offered her little money and she wasn't satisfied. I had been watching all along, you see.

"She had such beautiful brown locks, very soft. I offered ten francs for all of it. She agreed. Poor girl worked for the whore-man for quite some time before she finally fell sick. One of the best, I might add. Did everything for her child. When she became ill, she also became feisty. She wanted nothing to do with her business but was in too deep to leave. She would fight men off and get in trouble, but never arrested. Until, one evening, she clawed a man's face and was arrested on the spot. Another man appeared, huge man, might I add; real handsome and well off. This man apologized for her, promised he would find her child, and they went off to a hospital somewhere. I ne'er saw her again. I can only assume she died. Tragic really."

_Madame _held up the ring to her eyes. "This real?" she asked.

Cosette was unable to move. Unable to think; unable to breath. Oh, God, she needed to get out of there. She needed.. she.. She didn't know what she really needed. Her father had said one thing about her mother to her when she turned twelve. He'd said, "Your mother was strong and good. She was pure, like you, my flower."

Oh, how wrong he'd been! How he'd lied through his teeth!

Cosette stood up, shaking. _Madame _attempted to help her, but Cosette roughly pushed her away. "Get your hands off of me," she growled. _Madame _wasn't shaken.

"Well, whatever you wish. Thanks for this." she lifted the ring up to show Cosette one last time.

At first, the young girl was tempted to steal it back and run all the way home. But it was from her father, the liar. Good, let the old hag have it. Melt it down; sell it. Whatever. Just as long as Cosette never saw it again.

Cosette swallowed and nodded, tears brimmed in her eyes, but she refused to look weak in front of these people. A group was slowly gathering around the two; women half-dressed, men more than drunk, children clinging onto their barely-alive mothers, street-rats. If Cosette was anything, she was kind; she was good.

But Cosette was _not _weak.

Lifting her chin up, Cosette straightened her shoulders and turned on her heels. She left the Red Light District without a glance back. When she reached the corner, though, she broke.

* * *

It had been several days since Jehan Prouvaire had first met Cosette. She was quite possibly the jumpiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, as well as the most beautiful. Jehan had a thing for dramatics. He liked to sometimes blow things out of proportion with flowery words and grand gestures. Women often found him to be rather.. girly, for lack of a better word. But, in truth, Jehan was more manly than half of the men affiliated with _Les Amis_. He was certainly the bravest, certainly the softest, too. Like Enjolras, Jehan was ready to give up his life on a whim for France. Though this meant he would never become a world famous poet, Jehan was surprisingly content with going down in history as a revolutionary.

Joly collapsed into the chair beside Jehan with a hearty laugh. Marius followed closely behind Joly, holding a mug in his hand. Jehan looked up from his notebook; he closed it slowly.

"So, Jehan my boy, what is it today?" Joly nodded toward the notebook.

Jehan hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Studies on the continents." This wasn't entirely a lie. Three pages back was where he'd left his unfinished report on Asia.

"Oh.." Joly nodded his head with a wink.

It was then that Marius leaned in. "Yesterday, at the rally, I saw this girl." Jehan froze. "She was.. wearing purple, rather pale looking.."

Joly rolled his eyes. "This must be the second time this week, Marius, that you have found you're true love!"

Marius leaned back, on the border of anger.

Joly continued. "Don't play coy with me. I know you, Pontmercy. Just last week you came bursting in saying you'd found 'the one.'"

Marius blushed and looked away. "Forget I said anything."

Jehan let go of the breath he'd been holding. While Cosette had made her completely unnecessary exodus when he'd merely winked at her, Jehan didn't want Marius did get involved with the poor girl. He hoped he would find her again soon. Just to smooth things over; let her know he meant no harm. Maybe Courfeyrac would come along to attest to this. Jehan shook his head with a smile. No. Courfeyrac would scare her even farther away.

Enjolras hopped up on a nearby chair, raising his hand to quiet the mass of men in the room. His blond hair glowed, and a rare smile graced his face. "_Mon amis, _tonight we dine as victors!" a small cheer flew from the men. "For at our last rally, not one, nor two, but _four _new men signed up to help us in our fight!" another cheer rang out. Enjolras waved his hand over to the men. The four of them sauntered up, looking too proud of themselves. Enjolras then made the proper introductions.

"This is Victor Lorcy." Enjolras indicated the shorter gentleman with flour smeared in his black hair.

"This is Remi Ruel." A stocky man, older, too. He was well off, according to his pins and badges from war.

"This is Augustin Ledger." Like the others, he was in his early to mid-twenties. Very tall, very thin; mousey, but tough.

"And this is Fabin Lorrene." More exotic than the rest. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair.

"Please, introduce yourselves and make them feel welcome." Enjolras hopped down and clasped them all on the shoulders, beaming. He slowly made his way over to Jehan, while the others greeted the new men.

"Think they'll last very long?" he asked. Last time, two men had signed up; both dropped out within the week.

Enjolras shrugged. "Certainly Remi. Victor, possibly; he should just stay in the bakery, to be honest. Certainly not Augustin; he's here for the long haul. Fabin might just be here for the women... or the glamour.. I don't know."

Jehan smiled softly. "You're doing very well, Enjolras."

"You too."

Jehan laughed harshly. "You're just saying that."

"No! I can feel some of them slipping."

Jehan knew he was speaking about Grantaire. The lump never did anything to help, or to contribute; he was just in it for the booze. "Well, Grantaire never does anything. If he's the first of us to leave, at least we won't be loosing Combeferre."

Enjolras smiled sadly. "Yes.."

"Is there something on your mind, Enjolras?"

Enjolras snapped up. "No. No." He was lying and Jehan knew it, though he didn't press it. Probably just school..

But, school is was not. Enjolras hadn't seen Eponine since he saw her bruise those few nights ago. He was getting worried. Montparnasse was ruthless; he would stop at nothing until he got what he wanted. Enjolras was worried for her safety, that was all. Or was it? He didn't know himself. Every time he got around her, he got a little nervous. Enjolras wasn't one to be nervous; not even when giving his speeches. Enjolras was worried he would trip up, do something wrong, and she would think less of him. He didn't understand why she did this to him, and frankly, it was annoying.

_Just forget about her, Enjolras. For the night. Find her later, if you must. But for now, try and relax, _he told himself.

"Relax?" he scoffed. "I don't relax."

* * *

Cosette slipped inside quietly. The candles in her father's room were out, or at least she hoped. She couldn't see any light underneath the door. Of course, it was well past the evening hours. Maybe he would have gone to bed, trusting her to return home safely. Cosette knew this would be a long shot.

She tip-toed into her room and lit a candle by her side. A circle of light illuminated her room. She nearly screamed when she saw him.

Valjean sat waiting in his daughter's desk chair. She came in quietly and lit the candle. He blinked to become adjusted to the light. He saw her intake of breath and eyes widen.

"Cosette," he said.

She stared at him. "Papa," she whispered.

"What pray tell is this?" he held up the revolution rally flyer.

He watched, too, as her eyes closed in embarrassment. "A flyer, Papa."

"For the revolution?"

"Yes."

"Did you lie to me? Did you go to this meeting?"

Cosette hesitated and then nodded.

"Why?"

"I.. I met someone. He wanted to show me what he was a part of. But, it don't matter now. He was only after one thing." she sighed and slipped off her shawl.

"Still, you disobeyed."

Cosette groaned and titled her head back. "I am not a child anymore, Papa! Stop treating me like one!"

"Don't you take that tone with me, child!" Valjean said, standing up quickly. "Where did you go? Who is this boy?" his voice was growing louder by the second.

"His name is.. It doesn't matter; he doesn't matter." she told herself.

"Cosette, I told you that you could go to the market, but you didn't listen. You know how worried I am when you go to things alone."

"Why?" Cosette's head turned sharply. She was eager to get answers. "Because you're afraid I'll find something out?"

Valjean faltered. He lowered his voice. "What?"

"You're worried I'll find out about her right?" her voice was rising quickly; she'd never felt this angry, this hurt. Why hadn't he told her!

"What are you saying, Cosette?"

"You afraid for me to leave you because you don't want me knowing my mother was nothing more than a common street-whore who was unable to keep her legs closed and mouth shut!" Cosette's voice broke and a tear slid down her cheeks. She spoke dangerously low then, "You don't want me to know that I'm exactly like her: worthless and dirty."

* * *

_Oh, Cosette. Always jumping to conclusions. ;)_


	4. To Those Who Ask and Tell

_Thank you all for the lovely reviews. (About 'Bee-Stings and Benches,' I have literally __no__ inspiration for that, so unless someone wants to help me out of my rut, it's just gonna be sittin' there for awhile.)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C and E/E_

_To Those Who Ask and Tell_

Valjean closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. After a tense moment, he stood up. "I am not going to argue with you, Cosette. I am not going to explain anything to you tonight. Please; try and understand." he moved to the door and placed a hand on the frame. He looked off toward his own room.

Cosette shook her head. She bunched a portion of her dress in her fist. "I want.. I need to know now. I can't keep living a lie!"

Valjean shook his head. "You are not living a lie."

"And how am I supposed to believe you? Trust you?"

Valjean groaned and pounded his hand on the frame. "Cosette, you will find these things out in time. You are still too fragile-"

Cosette felt her hand go free from her dress and fly out to the side. "I am not fragile, Papa!" she lowered her voice. "I am stronger than you think.."

Valjean stared at his daughter for a moment. He knew she was right. He knew she was struggling. He understood, yet he could not give her up. "Goodnight, Cosette."

Cosette ran to the doorframe; just across the hall, her father's door was closed. "Papa!" she yelled. "_Father!_"

The door remained shut.

* * *

The café was bustling with energy. More than that, it was teeming with people. _Another rally_, she supposed. Eponine skirted inside and toward the back room; she could feel _Les Amis_' excitement through the door. Before entering, Eponine smoothed her hair down, running a hand through the knots he'd made. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to make sure her gait wasn't as awkward as it felt. God, she was sore. She pushed the door open and slid into the back, taking a seat beside Marius. Although Marius knew of her past feelings for him, the friendship that was so great between the two never lessened by any measure; it was still as if they were twelve-year-olds, scampering through the streets, hiding from her father. Marius was beaming and Eponine rolled her eyes.

"You've found another, have you not?" she asked, amusement in her voice.

Marius' attention was focused on the men rushing in and out of the room all at once. "What was that?" he replied.

Eponine sighed; some things never changed. "Nothing. Look, I came to tell Enjolras something so-"

Marius' head turned. "I think I've found the one, 'Ponine."

"You said that last time," she answered, looking away.

"No, but really."

"Do you even know her name?" He had this funny habit of never learning their names, all the girls that were "the one."

Marius faltered. "Well, no. But Jehan might; he seemed to know who I was speaking of."

'Ponine rolled her eyes. "Marius, grow up, why don't you?!" she tousled his hair and wandered off to find Enjolras. She needed to speak with him in private, urgently.

She found him leaning against the sole window frame in the room, looking out at all the people bringing things in and out of the café. Combeferre stood beside him, arms crossed over his chest, speaking quietly. When Eponine arrived, he cut his sentence short and stared at Enjolras for a moment before excusing himself. Enjolras finally looked away from the window and uncrossed him arms; he shoved one hand into his pocket.

"I'm sorry. Was I interrupting something?" Eponine looked over her shoulder to where Combeferre was now speaking with Joly, though he never tore his eyes away from the girl. The last time Eponine interrupted something.. She shivered at the memory.

Enjolras shook his head. "_Non, mademoiselle. _Certainly not. Combeferre was just debriefing me on how today's event will proceed."

Eponine nodded and looked out the window. "Yes; I figured something was happening today. Everyone seems so excited!" she tried to smile, but it probably came out more as a grimace of pain.

Enjolras noticed her awkwardness, but dismissed it as not sleeping well. "We're having a rally outside of General Lamarque's home today. Should prove to be interesting."

"I hope so."

Eponine swallowed and looked back out the window. She saw a bright flash of blue and blond dart into the café. _Probably one of Coufeyrac's mistresses coming to plead for him to leave the revolution so they can make beautiful babies and be the happiest couple on Earth. _She smiled softly; they always did that before a rally.

"Are you alright, Eponine?" she heard.

Turning her head, Eponine locked eyes with Enjolras. She wrinkled her nose, looking over his shoulder at Grantaire, who winked. "Yes, of course, _monsieur._"

He raised an eyebrow. "You look stiff."

_Stiff. _Then she remembered.

Eponine suddenly placed a hand on his elbow, her eyes searching his. She felt him tense at her touch. Of course; Enjolras does not like physical contact in the slightest. She let go.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" she nodded toward the tavern part of the café. Hopefully all the noise would help her to speak more freely.

Enjolras nodded. "I have fifteen minutes I can give you. Come."

* * *

Cosette nearly flew into the café. She was still brimming with anger and she needed a way to release it. Maybe yelling at all the rich of France would help? After all, she wasn't really one of them, was she? She nearly pushed her way into the back where she knew all the men would be getting ready for the next rally. Like before, she chose not to be cumbersome and wear the cage below her sky blue dress. It would have been awfully embarrassing to see her struggling to get into the back and take up all that room, too.

Cosette pushed the door open and searched for Jehan. By the wall, a man with light brown hair and face dusted with freckles stood up quickly. She stared at him a moment before resting her eyes on Jehan; she felt an odd sense of relief.

During the night, the restless night, she'd come to the realization of two things. One, she needed to find him and ask him some questions about their cause. Two, she needed to apologize for acting so rudely the week before. She knew now that he never would have done anything to hurt her; she was acting out of instinct.

She would never be used the same way again.

Several of the men in the room stared at her as she passed, but what with Eponine and Coufeyrac's mistresses always present, women near _Les Amis _was coming more of a usual thing. Jehan was over by the lone table in the room, laughing with the large man beside him. She walked over, more than determined, and placed a hand on his arm. He turned and stopped laughing. The man beside him took a swig of his beer, a quizzical look on his face.

"Grantaire," he said. "Hand me some of that will you!" he walked away quickly.

Jehan swallowed the bread in his mouth, eyes wide. "_Mademoiselle _Cosette, what are you doing here? I thought-"

Cosette shook her head. "I came because I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have been so rude to you last week. I was- It doesn't matter. I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I offended you, _monsieur._"

Jehan shook his head and smiled. "No. Of course you didn't. Confused me? Yes. But offended me? Never."

Cosette felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She had been afraid that he would be angry; men always were. "I'm glad. Now, can I ask you a question about all this?" she waved her hand around to indicate the revolution.

"Certainly."

"What would it take for a woman to join?" she asked plainly.

Jehan nearly choked on the bread in his mouth.

* * *

Enjolras guided Eponine to one of the booths near the front of the café. As he sat down, he noticed how she took her time, eyes closed as she slid across from him.

Something definitely wasn't right.

"What is it?" he asked, waiting for her to reopen her tightly shut eyes.

Eponine laughed harshly before she sucked in a deep breath. "Hand me that rag, will you?" she pointed to the rag at the end of the table. She could feel the cut underneath her rib reopen as she sat down. Enjolras handed it to her and she placed it over quickly darkening spot on her dress. _Pressure makes it stop, 'Ponine. You know that better than anyone. _

Enjolras couldn't wait any longer. Their time was running out. "It was Montparnasse wasn't it? Do not lie to me, Eponine. I know his work when I see it." Alright, he was lying. He'd never seen the bloke in his life, only heard his name whispered in the streets. But Enjolras did know what he did to Eponine if she didn't get her take. Just like her father.

Eponine nodded, feeling tears well up behind her eyes. _Don't cry. Not in front of Enjolras! Be strong. _"Yes."

Enjolras moved to take her hand, but stopped, drumming his fingers on the table. "Tell me."

Eponine looked at him with wet eyes. "I was walking home last night, from a con, you see. I hadn't exactly gotten as much as I should have." she felt shame roll over her in waves. "I tried to bypass 'Parnasse and his little "group" on the corner, but ended up right smack-dab where he wanted me down the alley. I suppose he knew I wouldn't get enough, and he knew I would try to run, so he was just waiting for me to show up. When I did, he told me that I'd done a horrible job, like always, and that I needed to pay.."

Enjolras gestured for her to go on. Eponine focused on her lap once more. "He pushed much up against the wall and.. I tried to scream, get someone to hear, but in the that area, no one cares." a stray tear fell down her cheek and she looked over to the bar. "He said the cruelest things as he did it, _monsieur. _I've never been so ashamed in my life. Mind you, I've done things like that before, had to really; to stay alive. But this time.."

Enjolras placed two of his fingers on her shaking hand. He felt her hand still. "You don't have to tell me the rest," he whispered.

Eponine nodded. "Thank you."

"Are you hurt?"

Eponine shrugged. "He had a knife against my ribs the whole time. I guess I squirmed too much and got myself a nice little slice." she smiled sadly. "Do you think _Monsieur _Joly can take a look at it?"

Enjolras nodded, pressing his fingers down in encouragement. "Certainly. And, Eponine," she looked up. "You needn't go back to him anymore, you know?"

Eponine sucked in her lower lip. "I know."

"Then why do you?"

"He wants me. No one else does."

* * *

Jehan gripped Cosette's elbow in his hand. He lead her over to the corner. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying that recently I found out information that links me to the ones you wish to help." Jehan stared at her, confused. "I can explain maybe later, but for now, I want to know if I can join your fight. Properly? Meetings and all. I want to help; I know I can."

After a moment, Jehan squeezed her elbow. "You are something special, _mademoiselle. _I can ask Enjolras; he runs the show 'round here. How about you come to the rally today and get a taste, a real one, of what we do? Then you can make your choice." he smiled at her; her heart fluttered.

"I would like that."

Jehan laughed. "Me, too."

* * *

_I feel such a strong need to show a different side of Cosette in this story. Many people seem to think she's just that added soprano who is there for looks and innocence. On the contrary. Cosette is one of the strongest characters in Les Mis. Not only was she mistreated as a child and taken away multiple times, but when Valjean was dying, she freakin' left her weeding and tore across the country to see him! Also, she's a little funny. _

_/Rant over./ Please tell me what you think!_

_Jess_


	5. A Con or Two

_Y__ou are all seriously my favorite people on the planet._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C _

_A Con.. or Two.._

Jehan could feel his heart thumping like a million drums. He could feel the excitement rush through his veins like water released from a dam. Everything around him was forgotten. All he could focus on were the words Enjolras and Marius spoke atop the platform. His attention decreased just some as Courfeyrac jumped up beside Enjolras and whispered in his ear. With a nod and wave, Enjolras turned around to face the relatively large crowd of people below him.

"Lamarque is ill," he said gravely. Jehan felt a hush fall over the crowd; he took this time to steal a glance at Cosette, who stood beside him. Her face was the picture of perfect: her lower lip sucked in, eyes wide. Jehan hoped this would convince her to stay; he sorely wished for her to. "The doctors don't think he'll last the week. My friends, I ask you what, pray tell, will-"

The sound of hooves and the National Guard snapped Enjolras' head to the left. As he jumped from the platform and rushed for the crowd of people, herding them down the nearest alley, Jehan did his best to follow, while also gathering the people. The National Guard rode in on their massive horses, not worried whether they trampled a cart or a person. Jehan watched as a skinny man hit an elderly man with the base of his gun. Cosette gasped and pushed Jehan out of the way so she could go help the man up.

"Cosette, no!" he grabbed her elbow, but she wrenched free and darted another horseman. Amidst all the shouting of '_Vive la France_' and '_Vive General Lamarque_,' Jehan could hardly keep up with the crowd rushed backward. He soon lost sight of Cosette.

There was nothing he could do, though, as the crowd finally surged and people ran left and right for the safety of another street. _Les Amis _dispersed, like the usually did so they couldn't all get arrested at once; they would meet up later that night at the café. As the people rushed off, excitement still brewing, and the Nation Guard slowed down their pursuit, Jehan remained hidden behind a wall, waiting to see if Cosette ever came back.

When ten minutes past and she still didn't come back from Lamarque's home, Jehan cursed. Why did he feel so responsible for her? She was the one who decided to come and risk her life just to get a taste of what they did! Not him! So why was it that Jehan was rushing back to try and find her?

* * *

Grantaire laughed loudly; Enjolras shoved his shoulder, brooding.

"That couldn't have gone any better, _mon ami_!"

"Of course it could have, you cynical ass!" Enjolras groaned and ran a hand through his curls. "Every time, Grantaire! Every time the National Guard shows up I want to-"

Grantaire smirked. "Show 'em what for!" he made a rude gesture and Enjolras moved to shove him away again. The other man fell away, laughing. "_Ê__tes vous avez offensé, marbre de monsieur*_?" Grantaire smirked again.

Enjolras' frown depended. "Don't call me that," he grumbled, turning the corner swiftly.

In his half-inebriated mind, Grantaire nearly missed the other's actions; he stumbled behind Enjolras. "Did you notice that girl, Enj?"

Enjolras breathed deeply and stalked on; the café would be just around a few corners. Once they returned, Grantaire would hopefully leave him alone to brood. "What girl?" he growled.

"I dunno. Some.. _fille blonde. _She looked right excited to be there. Nice eyes; nice chest, too."

"Shut up, Grantaire."

Another laugh, a mock salute. "_Oui, Monsieur Marbre!_"

* * *

Jehan snuck back into the open courtyard, searching for Cosette. Two National Guards were still perched on their horses, talking by the gateway. Several times they looked over their shoulder toward Jehan, but he had stuffed his cockade back into his pocket, to be safe. Unless they had gotten a good look at anyone's face (which Jehan knew they weren't bothered to), he should be alright to just waltz in and drag her off.

He found her where he left her, rather, where she left him. She was kneeling down beside the old man who had been knocked over; a large gash was on his forehead and she held his hand, smiling softly.

"Good, _monsieur_," he heard her whisper. "You've been brave."

Slowly, as to not scare her, Jehan placed a hand on her shoulder; he felt her jump slightly. She turned her head slowly and when she looked up at his face, all signs of worry disappeared.

"Oh, Jehan," she breathed, clutching her chest. "It's only you."

Jehan smiled and crouched down beside her. "Cosette," he whispered lowly. "We're attracting attention."

"What do you mean?" she looked at him with wary eyes. The man below them moaned and she reverted her attention. "It's going to be alright,_ monsieur. _We're going to get you help."

The National Guards, by this time, had become a little suspicious. They knew who had beaten the old man down; in fact, it was the one on the right, Crousto. He knew the man had been watching and participating in the rally, but why the two young people were so intent on helping the man, or watching him die, was beyond him? Unless, they, too, were part of the revolution. In that case, his division leader would be mighty surprised when he brought back two prisoners.

Crousto and Fravolet, the man on the left, dismounted and began moving toward the trio. Jehan kept his hand on Cosette's shoulder, occasionally looking at the advancing pair.

"Cosette, I need you to go along with this, alright?" he said.

She gave him a quizzical look. "_Quoi?_"

"Just.. just follow my lead, _n'est pas_?"

"Alright." she nodded.

As the National Guardsmen arrived on the scene, Jehan gripped Cosette's shoulder tighter; he prayed this would work. He looked up at them and smiled sadly; then he stood.

"Good evening, _messieurs_."

"Good evening." Crousto said, keeping his rifle in hand. "What's going on here?"

Cosette opened her mouth to speak, but Jehan interrupted. "My wife and I were out on our afternoon stroll and we saw this injured man here. Naturally, being a woman, you see, my wife couldn't help but run over to see what was wrong. When we reached the man, we found it to be none of than my wife's great-uncle. She's rather shaken up, as you can tell." Jehan crouched down beside Cosette again and wrapped an arm around her waist; he was pleasantly pleased to see that it felt to right to hold her so.

Fravolet raised an eyebrow. "You expect us to believe that, do you?"

Jehan feigned offense. "But of course. Here," he held up her left hand, on which, her ring finger had a thin silver band. "The wedding band."

"And your's, _monsieur_?"

Cosette chuckled sadly. "You know as well as I, _monsieur_, that men rarely wear wedding bands."

Fravolet blushed. The woman was right. He backed off.

Cosette looked over her shoulder at Jehan. "Will my uncle be alright, Georges?" she pretended to forget about the Guardsmen hovering over her shoulder; it was easy since Jehan's eyes were heart-stoppingly beautiful.

Jehan sighed and nodded. He brushed a hand behind Cosette's ear. Cosette could feel the blush creep up her neck. "Of course, my sweet. I'm sure these gentlemen will help him to the nearest hospital." he looked up at the Guardsmen. "Won't you?"

The Guardsmen looked between themselves. They really had no choice unless the wanted to look even more like fools.

Crousto nodded. "Certainly, _monsieur. _Your uncle will be fine and dandy right soon, _madame._"

Both Crousto and Fravolet then managed to pick the old man up and transport him to the hospital, or so they hoped. When their backs disappeared around the corner, Cosette's hand flew to her mouth. She jumped to her feet and tried ever so hard not to throw her arm's around Jehan's neck.

"Did you see that, _monsieur_?" she nearly squealed. "I've never been so nervous and excited in all my life! I think the name was a nice touch, too!"

Jehan smiled at her zeal. "You had me worried."

Cosette stopped smiling. "Why?"

"I thought something bad had happened. When you tore away from me, I figured you might have been trampled when you didn't come back around the bend. The fate would befall anyone who stayed on the ground too long."

Cosette looked away. "I was- am- fine."

"I mean no offense, _mademoiselle_," he stammered.

Cosette picked up the crumbled pamphlet the old man had been holding. She smoothed out the edges. "I know." she sighed and rubbed her forehead. Then she began walking back toward the café. "Come on then."

* * *

Jean Valjean was worried. More than worried, he was solicitous. Cosette had been gone the whole day. The day was slowly turning into night and if she didn't return home soon, Valjean was afraid he would have to send out a search party of nuns and grave-diggers.

What a sight that would be.

Just as he was about to call Mother Superior to tell her to round up a small group, the front door slammed closed and Valjean nearly had a heart-attack. He sprung from her room out into the hall; Cosette ran full on into his chest and fell back with a stumble.

"Oh, Papa!" she said breathlessly. "You scared me!" there was a slight giggle in her voice.

Valjean willed himself to stay calm.. for the time being. "Cosette, where were you?"

She brushed past him and undid her braid. "The market."

"The market is not open today, Cosette." he watched her hands still and then resume their actions.

"Well, it was a smaller market. Books and things."

"Did you not purchase anything?"

Cosette shook her head with a laugh. "When I got there, I realized I had forgotten my money, but I ran into _Mademoiselle _Fiona and we spent the day together."

Valjean leaned against the doorframe. He knew full well she was lying; he wanted to see, though, how long she could last before the guilt over-took her. "Obviously."

Cosette turned around, a thin frown on her face. "You don't believe me?"

Valjean nodded. "I do, yes. You would never lie to me, child; I trust you. But I find it hard to understand why you spent the day with _Mademoiselle _Fiona when the two of you had a falling out."

Cosette paled. "We.. We've forgiven each other."

"Is that so?" he paused. "Where were you? Really.."

"I told you, the market placed with _Mademoiselle _Fiona." Cosette could see he didn't believe her; why did she continue with her lie? Maybe 'twas because he had lied to her all along..

"I'm going to give you one last try, Cosette," was his reply. She remained unwavering in her story. The dam broke and Valjean pounded the door frame with his fist. Cosette jumped. "_Euphrasie!_" he heard her gasp."Listen to me, and listen well! I am a man with much patience, but this has extended it far enough. I will not have you traipsing about Paris without my knowledge. If I have to, I will make sure you don't leave this house for a very long while. All I want is your safety and your happiness, but if I can't trust you, then things will have to change!"

Cosette set her jaw and bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted metal. She wanted to retaliate. She had several things she wished to speak with him about, as well. But she would not give him the satisfaction of that fact that he had both hurt and angered her. So, she turned her back and continued getting ready for bed. When it came time to change clothes, she looked over her shoulder. He stood there, still, will the angry expecting look on his face.

"I would appreciate it if you would give me some privacy."

Valjean nearly growled as he stalked off back to his room. When she heard the door slam, Cosette did the same with her own door. She fell to her bed with a strangled sob, falling asleep with her memories of the day.

* * *

Jehan slid into bed with a large sigh. Beside him, his fat white tabby cat, Célie, curled up beside him. He winced slightly at the pain when she stepped on his leg just some. There would certainly be a bruise there in the morning. Grantaire, in a drunken fit, had thrown his mug when yelling about the British and something no one understood. The mug had hit Jehan square in the leg and left a rather large welt for the rest of the evening.

Cosette had found it hilarious and she had to hold his hand to keep from falling off the chair she was laughing so hard. He'd asked her once if she had made her decision, to join or not, and she had replied with, "I will tell you tomorrow." He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

Surprisingly, Eponine had not been present at either the rally or the celebration. She always was, either talking with Marius or trying to get Enjolras to loosen up with one of her many tales. Jehan had forgotten to ask Enjolras of her whereabouts before she left, but he figured she was just feeling a little unwell and decided not to come. Good; Joly would have kicked her out.

With a yawn and a stretch, Jehan rolled over onto hid side, pulling the cat with him. Tomorrow was a new day, but for awhile, nothing would top this one.

* * *

_Tomorrow is a near day, Eponine. A.. new.. day!_

Eponine screeched when 'Parnasse pulled too hard on the needle. She swatted his hand away and finished stitching up her side on her own.

As she cut the needle away, she could feel his warm breath by her ear. "God, 'Ponine, never knew you were so feisty."

"Get away," she mumbled, shoving the needle and thread away, pulling her dress back up.

"Now, now, 'Ponine." he placed his hands on her shoulders, slowly massaging away her tenseness. "Don't act like that, darling."

Eponine tried not to let her head lull back onto his chest, but she couldn't help it. She was so stressed, so tense, and his fingers were working magic. Soon, she found herself fully in his arms, unclothed. She cursed and pushed him away, though the actions nearly tore her stitched side.

"No!" she cried. "Not after what you did."

Montparnasse pouted and beckoned her back. "I wont bite, unless you wish it."

"I can.. I can do better than you, 'Parnasse." she pulled her dress over her head and clenched her fists. Enjolras was right; why keep going back?

The other man stood up. "You can?"

"Yes."

He scoffed and buttoned up his shirt. "You honestly think someone would care for the likes of you? Misused, dirty, unclean Eponine?"

Though his words stung, Eponine knew they were true. "Maybe."

"Think again, sunshine." he pulled his top-hat on and stalked for the door. "You'll never be rid of me." he winked and left.

* * *

_A/N: Euphrasie is actually Cosette's given name. But Fantine called her Cosette because it means "little thing." _

* Are you offended?


	6. Warm Hearts

_My lovely readers, where hath you gone? _

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E _

_Warm Hearts_

"Eponine.. Eponine, wake up." Enjolras gently prodded Eponine's shoulder.

Eponine's head snapped up and hit the wall behind her. She groaned and slid out of the chair onto the floor with a _humph. _Enjolras frowned and went around the table, putting his arm on her elbow, helping her up.

"There you are, _mademoiselle,_" he whispered. "You really fell asleep there. Glad to know my speeches about the rights for the poor using public places enthralled you so much." he smiled softly, but her face remained blank.

Eponine nodded slightly then shrugged on her threadbare coat. She looked about the empty room. Had she really been asleep for so long? She'd arrived to listen to the speech and tell Feuilly something, but fell asleep on the table. What was she so tried from again? The three days past were all a blur; she hadn't been the café since the day before the rally at General Lamarque's house. That was four days ago.

"_Monsieur,_" she turned to Enjolras suddenly. "_A quelle-heure_?"

"Nearing midnight."

Eponine nodded again. She in no way wanted to go home. She wanted, _needed, _to stay at the café. In the next few days, Eponine would have major life choices to make. They would affect herself, Gavroche, and Azelma greatly, no matter what she chose. But first, for the night, she needed to clear her head, focus on something else.

Her face lit up into a bright smile; Enjolras felt his heart clench.

"_Monsieur, _will you do me a favor?" she asked brightly. Her sudden change of mood threw Enjolras a little off guard, but then again, he wasn't used to women.

He paused before answering, "_Cet dépend._"

"Can you.. distract me for the next couple of hours?" Enjolras must have looked taken a-back because Eponine began to giggle slightly. "I just have a few things to mull over right now; I'd rather not spend tonight doing such, though. Can you show me some place? Teach me something utterly boring so I _cann__ot _think about it?"

Enjolras eyed her warily. He guessed it wouldn't be too hard; she was probably good for company. Mind you, he wouldn't know. The two, while they walked home together sometimes, never really did anything with the other outside of the revolution. "I suppose I can try, _mademoiselle_."

Eponine grinned and reached for her cap. "Wonderful. _Merci, _Enjolras."

* * *

They ended up at Enjolras' apartment. He had intended upon taking her to the library, but she found the idea too grand and said she'd rather go to the corner bakery. He had replied with the fact that he didn't bring along any money and she had said that wouldn't be a problem. So, he'd dragged her to his apartment as a last resort.

She was still a little giggly from her joke when they walked through the door. Enjolras could feel a slight bubble of anger beginning to form. Her giggles stopped the moment the door closed. He turned around, wondering if she had left, or passed out, or died. Nothing of the sort, though. Her mouth was just opened in a perfect 'o' shape and her eyes scanned his two bedroom apartment. He groaned and shrugged off his jacket.

"I know," he said, heading for one of the many bookcases that lined the wall.

"It's small, but.. Good Lord, it's beautiful!" Eponine ran her hand over the leather bindings of his books when she walked over beside him. Below her, her bare feet relished the feel of the expensive rug. "Who is this all from?"

Enjolras pulled out a book and collapsed in the leather chair by the single window. "My father. Well, really my mother. She insisted; she loves me too much or something to let me live like a 'heathen.'" Enjolras looked over at Eponine; she blushed. He muttered an oath. "No. Forgive me. I didn't mean it like that. She did; I didn't.."

Eponine laughed uncomfortably. "It's alright, _monsieur. _I've been called worse."

Enjolras stood up suddenly. "Yes. Eponine. About that.."

Eponine turned around from the table near his kitchenette. "I don't think that there's anything that needs to be said, _monsieur_."

Enjolras wished to press the situation and his questions, but something about how her eyes suddenly were very cold made him rethink the idea. Still, he wouldn't go down without letting her know that they _would _be speaking about such things at some point.

"One day I'll pry it from you, Eponine." he meant for the comment to be slightly humorous, but it only resulted in Eponine closing her eyes in what seemed to be pain.

Eponine clenched her hand on the back of a chair. "So, your parents then? They wanted you to have all this and you didn't want it?" she scoffed. "I mean, you've got everything!" she ran a hand over a glass case which held simply air.

Enjolras shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I wished, when I started the revolution, to give up most of my worldly possessions. But that came after I moved to the university. When I moved away from home, my mother had been very worried I wouldn't be able to live without this. I would, and I am. I hardly ever come here.." he absentmindedly looked around the apartment.

"How come?"

"It's very stuffy," seemed to work as an excuse. Eponine nodded like she accepted it; he could tell she didn't.

"You get along with your folks?" she asked. If her asking questions were what kept her mind off of whatever it was that was troubling her, Enjolras was happy to play the part, but not when it came to things like this. He had a right to privacy, like she did.

Enjolras braced his shoulders and ignored her question. He walked over beside her. "Hungry," he asked. Eponine nodded slowly.

"But I don't want you to feed me, _monsieur! _I'm not a charity case for you and your rabble," she mumbled. Enjolras smiled slightly and rooted around for some cheese and bread.

"Suit yourself. I haven't eaten all day. Now is as good of a time as any." he placed the block cheese on the table and began looking for the bottle of wine. "And, Eponine?" she looked over at him; his eyes bore holes into hers. "You're not a charity case."

She smiled. "I guess I am a little hungry."

* * *

Jehan Prouvaire was anxious, again. She said she would come, in fact, she promised. It was the late afternoon and Cosette had promised the evening of the rally that he could take her to the garden nearby. That was four days ago, and while Jehan didn't know her too well, he did know she wouldn't break a promise.

He stood up and began to pace. _Where is she? _This was not the first time this had happened. Many a time before women had "stood him up." Jehan was a very sensitive young man, who believed love was the best thing the world had to offer, besides poetry and plants. He only wished one day he could find a woman who shared the same ideals. It seemed each day that the dream was farther and farther away. He'd hoped that Cosette maybe thought the same way, but if she didn't show up.. Well, he would know how she really felt. Like all the others, she would have only agreed to meet because she felt sorry for him.

It would be the age old: Poor Jehan. Lonely Jehan. Sickeningly sweet Jehan.

Finally, he gave up, convinced she felt the way he presumed.

Across town, that was not the case.

* * *

Cosette had been locked in her own house for four days. She was ready to kill herself with anger. Valjean had been so enraged by her actions he had "decreed" she could no longer leave until he saw fit. Of course, she was open to wander the grounds of the church, find redemption with God, but doing that would only make him happy.

This was the opposite of what she wanted.

She needed out, fresh air, Jehan's unruly hair. Cosette sat up straight. Oh God, Jehan!_ Le jardin_! She had to get out for certain now. But how? A thin smile played across her lips. Opening the door to her room, Cosette looked down the hall. Her father wasn't home, he was at his factory. She could easily walk out of the church, but Sister Margareta had been instructed to watch her.

So, Cosette formed a plan.

And it worked, because, after all, street-rats and whore's daughters knew how to con.

When she reached the square where she and Jehan planned to meet, she was sad to find it empty besides two children racing after their mother. Out of breath, Cosette fell to a nearby bench. So much for leaving the convent; now she would have to return. Resigned to her fate of everlasting bondage, Cosette stood up and began back for her home.

"Cosette?" she heard; she turned quickly and her face broke into a smile.

"Jehan," she exclaimed. "Oh, heaven above! I apologize. I couldn't leave, you see! My father.. He's.. been strict lately."

Jehan nodded and looked to his right. "Yes."

Cosette cocked her head. "Is something the matter?"

"No, certainly not. Would you like to go now?"

Cosette nodded and he offered her his arm; she took it gratefully. Their walk was silent and uncomfortable. Cosette could tell he was feeling something other than he usual pep and happiness. She was probably the one who caused such feelings.

"Jehan, I really am sorry for not arriving on time. I was unable to leave." Jehan merely nodded. Cosette turned her head and frowned. "Well, if you're going to be a sour-puss," she muttered.

That brought out his angelic laugh. Cosette felt her heart still and her stomach flip. Jehan held her arm a little tighter, bringing her a little closer.

"You are a dear, Cosette." he smiled down at her, blushing slightly.

"_Non, monsieur. _That is not the case." she slipped her hand away from his arm when they reached the garden. "Oh good Lord! It's beautiful, Jehan!"

He smiled. "I know."

She pulled his arm through the iron gate. "Come on then. Show me the flowers."

* * *

Eponine sat forward in her chair. "You really are willing to die, then, _monsieur_?"

Enjolras nodded. "Yes. _Pour Patria._"

"You make it sound so simple," she replied. "I don't think it is."

"Well, planning to overthrow the government isn't simple, Eponine. I don't think I made it sound so." Enjolras ate another piece of bread and leaned back in his chair.

They had been talking for hours on end, only about the revolution, always _only _about the revolution. They had conversed for so long, it was already the next afternoon by the time Enjolras realized what had happened. Enjolras was tired. He wanted a break for a few moments.

"What was it you wanted to not think of then?" he asked.

Eponine froze in her chair. She subconsciously rubbed her aching side. Enjolras was her friend; at least, in her mind. She hoped he felt the same. Why she was so afraid to tell him was beyond her? Maybe she didn't wish to burden him with her troubles. He already had enough on his own plate to worry about her.

She lowered her eyes to her lap. "It doesn't concern you, _monsieur. _I don't think you really need to know; I don't want you to feel burdened."

He laughed shortly. "I won't be burdened."

Whether or not this should comfort her, Eponine didn't know. She frowned slightly. "I am considering leaving," she stated.

It was his turn to frown. "Leaving? What do you mean?"

"I took what you said to heart. I don't need to keep going back to 'Parnasse nor my parents. I can make a way for myself. In fact, I always have. But now, if I left, it would be more permanent. I would never be able to go back. My father would wring my neck."

"Why wouldn't you leave? It sounds like you've made up your mind.."

"My sister."

"Sister?"

"Azelma. She's very naïve, turns a blind eye to the ways of our parents. I don't want to leave her alone, but I can't stay anymore!"

Enjolras nodded. "Sometimes, you have to do what's best for yourself, Eponine. I see the way you care for Gavroche; I can only assume you do the same for Azelma. But, you need to take care of you now."

"I've thought of that. But.. I don't think I can do it."

"Then you'll be stuck at home, forever being pushed around by Montparnasse and your parents. Would you rather that than freedom?"

Eponine sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "No."

"Then think on it. Alzema could always come with you."

"She wouldn't."

"You never know until you ask."

Eponine looked over at him. "And what of you, _monsieur_? You think it would be a good idea for me to leave?"

"_Oui._"

"Where would I go?"

He stopped. "Well.. I'm not sure."

She sighed. "I've racked my brain for any idea of anyplace. But I can't think of anything or anyone who would take me in until I could find my own place. I won't be a charity case." she flung the words at him with venom.

Enjolras sighed. "I have an extra room here. You could stay until you get on your feet. I know of a shop downtown looking for someone to clean the tables after closing time. It doesn't pay much, but it's work."

Eponine stared at him. "You can't be serious."

"I am." he smiled slightly. "I only want for you to be safe, Eponine. Mull it over and tell me your answer in a few days." he stood up and left the room.

* * *

_And developments! Please review!_

_Jess_


	7. Leave The Door Cracked

_Thank you all for the lovely reviews. _

_(Does anyone else ever get that feeling were like.. you follow a story and suddenly it's never updated? I think it's a conspiracy. ;)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Leave The Door Cracked_

Sister Victoria stood outside of Mother Superior's door, eaves-dropping. While it was a sin to do such, she couldn't help herself. Cosette had been found in the garden near the convent with a man; they weren't doing anything precarious, simply talking and looking at the flowers. The boy who had found them knew _Monsieur _Valjean and knew he was searching desperately for his daughter; he'd collected Cosette and the young man and dragged them back to the convent, where they were being berated by Valjean, Mother Superior, and Bishop Monont currently. Sister Victoria was there to make sure Cosette when straight back to her new room's _within_ the convent and no where else.

She could just faintly make out Valjean's booming voice as he let out all of his anxieties and fears. She was certainly glad she was not Cosette.

* * *

Back erect, hands folded, chin up, Cosette wasn't listening. Alright, she was; how could she not with a voice with a power like that? Cosette felt her father's fears. She knew he had been scared half to death when she turned up missing, but she could care less.

With a heavy sighed, Valjean fell down into the chair behind him. He couldn't tell she wasn't listening. The boy beside her, face as red as the blood of Christ, looked forward, unblinking. Valjean studied him for a moment before waving his hand.

"You may go," he said.

Jehan looked at Valjean for the first time, eyes wide. "_Monsieur_?"

"I said, you may go."

Jehan looked over at Cosette, who's eyes pleaded for him to stay. But, he couldn't. So he stood slowly, mouthing 'I'm sorry,' before rushing from the convent. Cosette, understanding his situation, tried not to let it get to her. She looked back at the statue of the Virgin Mary.

"Cosette," Valjean's voice was considerably softer. "Look at me, please, child."

With a heavy heart, she turned her head.

_I can tell you about your mother. _

"Lately, you have been acting very strange. Tell what is bothering you, darling."

This was it, this was her chance to let him know her struggles. Yet, she couldn't. It was all still too new to her, so fresh, so open. She had to at least let it settle before she went about tearing it open again. Cosette shook her head slowly.

"I don't think I can, Papa."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Why ever not.."

"I.. It hurts to speak on."

"Then, let it out, and I won't touch the subject again."

Cosette looked between her father and the still-disproving Mother Superior. "My.. mother.." she began. Valjean raised an eyebrow. "_E__lle était une putain__*__?_"

* * *

Eponine sighed and braced her shoulders, lifting her hand to knock on the door, his door. Finally, realizing she had no where else to go, she knocked twice. It took a moment for the door to open, but it soon did, and a rather perturbed Enjolras stood behind it. His face softened when he saw it was her.

"My sister wont come," she said.

He nodded.

"I've made my choice, though."

He looked at the small bag in her hand and stepped back, allowing her to walk in. "I'm glad," he said.

* * *

Valjean stood. Cosette was suddenly afraid he would break his promise; she followed suit. He pulled her hand toward the door, and left without a word. They headed for her new room. He had made the choice to put her inside of the convent, so the nuns could keep an eye on her, since he would soon be returning to his factory during the day. Cosette had yet to see it.

Tucked away just across from the main service hall, Cosette's new room was much larger than her past one. Her bed, dresser, and writing desk had been moved into the room, and it all sat upon a large faded orange rug. Unlike her past room, this one had a fireplace on the wall opposite the one her bed rested on. There were paintings on the wall and several more chairs that Cosette would never use, but, over all, she was pleased.

Valjean settled himself in the chair before the fire. He cradled his head in his hands. Cosette remained by the door, anxious. "Well?" she whispered. "Wasn't she?"

Valjean leaned back and nodded. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why did I have to?"

Cosette frowned and shut the door. "Because I have a right to know what she was!" she sat on the bed. "Does this make me some man's daughter she didn't even know the name of?"

Valjean smiled. "No. No. Fatine knew your father.."

Cosette raised an eyebrow. "Did she?"

"His name was Félix Tholomyès, and he left your mother when you turned two."

Cosette sighed. "I am still.. I am still one of them: the ones we help."

"Is that such a problem? Is that something to be ashamed of?"

Cosette looked away. "No."

"Then why are you making it out to be so?"

"It is simply a shock, Papa. I did not expect to be a whore's daughter.."

Valjean frowned. "Cosette, the only reason your mother was such was because of me. Not directly, of course. But, I didn't help her when she needed me most. I didn't.. hear." he looked into the flames. "The point is, your mother was so much more than what her "occupation" was. She was extremely brave, and she certainly said no. She put up with all the nasty women at the shop and most of all, she loved you. She did everything she could to save you!

"I can tell that this hurts you; I am not sure why. Maybe you're just being petty. But the truth of the matter is this: yes, Cosette. You are a whore's daughter. You always have been, and you always will be one. Whether or not you resent that and become angry and bitter or accept it and move on with your life is your choice."

He stood up and went to the door. "I am going back to the factory tomorrow, as you know. Stay here and help Mother Superior. Goodnight."

* * *

"You'll stay here," he said, opening the door to what used to be his bedroom.

Eponine looked at Enjolras. "This is your room, _monsieur. _I will not take it."

Enjolras stared at his bed. "I can sleep on the couch. I usually do anyway."

Eponine shook her head and held her bag closer. "_Non, monsieur._"

Enjolras sighed and closed the door to the room rather hard. Eponine jumped and backed away a few steps.

"Fine," was his hard reply. "We'll both sleep out here then. You can occupy the couch and I the chair!"

Eponine frowned and walked over to where he now sat at his desk, writing rapidly, probably not even realizing what words he was putting down. Eponine leaned over his shoulder to see what he was writing; his print was so sloppy she couldn't make out the words. Enjolras was tense. Having her this close caused his hands to spiral out of control, just making it look like he knew what he was doing. Eponine moved a little closer to make out a word he had just written. He stopped and put his pen down, whipping his head around he was sure he pulled a muscle. Their faces were so close she could have easily kissed him, but they just stared at one another, anger certain on both faces.

Finally, she moved her head and pointed to the bedroom. "You will sleep in there, _monsieur_, and I will sleep there." she pointed to the couch, which didn't look too comfortable, not that she was used to comfort.

Enjolras studied her for a moment before nodding.

"Good," she said, throwing her bag on the couch. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few loose ends to tie up." she moved to the door and turned around. "Keep the door cracked."

* * *

After she had left, Enjolras had worked so hard on this speech, he had broke his pen and promptly fallen asleep on his papers. When Eponine returned, she had found him, snoring like a babe. She pulled his shoulders back and laughed at the ink smeared all over his cheeks. Gently, she wiped it off with a wet rag, waking him up just some. He was still so tired, his eyes didn't fully open and Eponine was all a blur.

"_Monsieur?_" she whispered. "Come. Let me help you to your room."

He understood her fine, but her voice sounded so far away. He allowed her to help him stand and be pulled by the hand to his bed, where he fell down with a grunt. Eponine chuckled and pulled off his boots and red jacket, placing the covers over him. He was already asleep by then, so Eponine brushed his ink filled hair back.

"Goodnight, _monsieur. _I thank you."

* * *

The next morning, Cosette had given up trying to find out a way to leave the convent. She had looked out the single window in her room to find a ten feet drop below her.

"Clever buggers," she muttered, before heading out into the hall. She could just walk out of the front door.. but that would be too obvious. Better figure out an errand to run.

Rushing down to the kitchen, where the people treated her kindly and knew nothing of her "convent arrest," Cosette found _Monsieur _Bezace, the head cook. He was an elderly gentleman who adored Cosette's company and often put her to work, which she thoroughly enjoyed.

He turned around from the stove when he heard her come in, crying, "Oh, _Mademoiselle _Cosette! It had been so very long since I have last seen you!" he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Cosette smiled. "I've been a little busy. I have a question for you, _monsieur_."

His face became very serious. "Oh, well, go on then, my dear. Let me just stir this soup and I will see if I can answer your inquiry."

"Do you have any errands I can run for you today? Papa wants me to help out more." this was not totally a lie..

Bezace touched his chin and looked away from the large pot he was stirring. "As a matter a fact, I do! Go into the pantry, find Pierre-Marie, and ask him to give you the list of things I need for tonight's supper."

Cosette grin and turned to find the boy. "_Merci!_"

"_Non, non!_" Bezace waved. "_Merci!_"

* * *

Cosette had found this list without any troubles, gotten the food from the market in two hour's times, returned it to the kitchen, and headed back out to find Jehan. She would be back before her father, certainly, and the nuns hardly thought about looking after her since they were so busy doing God knows what. It was early afternoon when Cosette arrived at the café, and to her luck, Jehan and Courfeyrac where the only ones present. She moved over to the table they were sitting at in the main tavern and sat down in the empty seat, grabbing one of the pastries on the plate before her. Jehan stared at her and Courfeyrac laughed.

"Goodness," he said. "You must be _le fleur _Jehan is always raving about!"

Cosette looked at Jehan with wide eyes; his face was red and she grinned. "_Je suis Cosette, oui_."

Courfeyrac picked up her hand and placed a delicate kiss to the back of it. "I am Courfeyrac. If you ever get tired of this pansy here, I'll show you a good time." he winked and Cosette felt her face heat up.

Jehan sighed. "Don't frighten her, Courfeyrac. I already made that mistake.."

"Did you?! What did you do? Recite enough poetry it made her ears bleed?" he laughed again, slapping his knee.

Cosette sighed. "_Monsieur, _Jehan is wonderful company, and he has not recited any poetry for me as of yet, but I wish he would sometime soon. And he is certainly _not _a pansy!"

Jehan stared at Cosette with pride; he stood up and offered his arm. "The others won't be here for some time. Would you like to go on a walk, _mademoiselle_?"

Cosette smiled and took his arm, sticking her tongue out at Courfeyrac. "Of course."

* * *

_I think I might have accidentaly just eaten a whole box of Cheez-Its by myself. Those thing are good! Don't worry; next chapter with have more of Les Amis and the revolution. Just wanted to tie up a few stuff before I added that in. Please let me know what you're thinking of this pairing so far._

_Love, Jess_

*She was a whore?


	8. Promises

_Has anyone ever seen the video of John Barrowman in an empty train singing about how he's the only one on the train? It lasts 15 seconds and I think I may have peed just a little.._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Promises_

Enjolras woke with a startled yelp sometime around mid-afternoon. He felt fully rested for the first time in a very long time, and with a loud yawn and mighty stretch, he trudged out into the living room. Eponine sat on the couch, her legs crossed beneath her, one of his many books in hand. He sat down in the chair across from her, rubbing his eyes.

She held up a rather thick book. He smirked. _The Red and The Black__i_. "What's this one, _monsieur_?" she asked, still leafing through the book in her lap; he couldn't see the title.

"_The Red and The Black_," he replied. "Written by Standhal."

"Is it any good?"

He paused. "Yes. It has helped me much with the revolution and planning."

Eponine looked up and wrinkled her nose; the movement clenched Enjolras' heart. Every time she did that, he felt himself slipping a little more. She sat the book back down by her leg.

"Then it's of no use to me."

He smiled and nodded toward the book in her hands. He couldn't tell if she was actually reading it, or if she was just making it seem so. Enjolras still have no clue about Eponine's many hidden talents. Reading was one of her favorite past times, and in order to just read her life away, she was considering not even finding another flat. Enjolras' flat was all she needed to be happy. "What are you reading there?"

With a twinkle in her eye, she smiled and ran her tongue over her teeth. "_Melmoth the Wanderer__ii_," she whispered, waiting for his reaction.

Enjolras leapt to his feet and grabbed the book from her hands; he hastily shoved it back into the bookcase. "You can't read that, Eponine!"

Eponine fell back onto the couch in fits of giggles. "Oh, _monsieur_, it's so good, though!"

Enjolras shook his head, eyes wide with what seemed to be fear. "Women should not put those sort of images into their minds!"

The girl got up off the couch and brushed past him and took the book back from the shelf. "It's not too bad. Besides, I've seen worse." she winked and settled back down on the couch.

Enjolras sighed. There was no use in arguing with her. Once the woman set her mind to something, it would be accomplished. It was one of her attributes that Enjolras most admired. Heading to the kitchen, he picked up an orange and eventually found some ham that didn't look too old to eat.

"Are you coming to the meeting then?" he asked.

She lifted her head and cocked it to the side in thought. From behind her, Enjolras noticed a feather sticking out beneath her neck. He resisted the urge to go and pluck it out. "If you would like, _monsieur_."

He smiled to himself. "I would, very much so."

"Then I'll go." she turned around on the couch to face him. "As long as you promise I can read anything in your library."

He glanced at the bookshelves. There was some pretty.. risque reading material in those shelves; nothing that was too explicit in nature, but things that were so opinionated that Enjolras had a hard time finishing them himself. He rolled his eyes and nodded. "Fine!"

She smiled and returned to her book.

* * *

By evening, Eponine was so engrossed in her book it took all of Enjolras' efforts to rouse her from the couch to head to the meeting. It also took all of his convincing powers to convince her to leave the book there at the flat. They finally arrived, nearly before the meeting was scheduled to being, with Eponine still complaining about how she only wanted to finish the chapter before they left; Enjolras had tuned her out long before.

When the entered the room, to his surprise, everyone was already there. They usually straggled in once his talk began. Most men were crowded around one particular table. Enjolras leaned over to Eponine and whispered something in her ear before heading over to see what was all the fuss. The fuss happened to be a woman and that was more of a surprise than anything. Enjolras had just figured it would be someone sporting a new bruise or Courfeyrac spinning another tale.

He tried to mask his surprise with a hesitant smile. "_Bonjour_," he said.

Jehan looked up from Combeferre and he blushed, standing up, his hand on the woman's shoulder. The woman was blond, pretty, and.. normal.. Enjolras never really knew what to categorize woman as by their looks.

"Oh, Enjolras." Jehan seemed surprised his leader was present at his own meeting. "This is Cosette.. a friend." somewhere behind him a plate dropped.

Cosette smiled. "_Bonjour._"

"She was present at the rally at General Lamarque's home. She's very interested in the cause."

Enjolras gave her a slow nod and even slower smile. "Well, we're pleased to have you here."

"_Merci,_" she whispered, then she turned to Jehan and asked him something Enjolras couldn't catch; the other man replied quickly. Her face fell slightly, but soon returned to its normal smile. Enjolras clapped his hands and moved to a chair nearby.

* * *

In the back of the smaller room, Eponine was on the ground, picking up the broken plate pieces with Marius' help. _Cosette! Cosette was there at the meeting? _Eponine's mind was reeling and the floor suddenly seemed a bit wobbly. After attempting to clean up the pieces, and cutting her finger rather deeply, sending Marius into a tizzy trying to find Joly, Eponine staggered into the chair against the wall.

_When everything was going so well.._

Joly appeared before her all of a sudden, a rag pressed to his mouth. "Dear God," he whispered.

Eponine pulled her finger back. "It's nothing," she said curtly.

Joly frowned and took the finger in his hand, pouring some liquid on it. It stung terribly and Eponine bit her lip. "This is bad.. very bad.." But it wasn't and it was Joly..He wrapped the finger up in more than enough gauze and taped it over. "Keep that clean," he whispered before rejoining the meeting.

Marius took Eponine's elbow gently and beckoned her out toward the tavern. She was hesitant to follow, but she needed fresh air and tons of alcohol. They settled into a table facing one another. A beaker of beer was placed in front of her and the urge to get so drunk her eyes would pound suddenly left. She swirled the liquid around and then pushed it away.

"What troubling you?" Marius asked.

Eponine shrugged.

"That girl, right?" he had a silly grin on his face that could only mean one thing: she was "the one." Well, too bad for him, it looked like Jehan had already snatched her up.

"Yes."

"Cosette.." he breathed. "Wonderful name, wonderful-"

"Wonderful, _nearly taken _girl," Eponine added with a scoff.

He rolled his eyes in response. "What's wrong with her?"

"_Rien! _That's it! There's nothing wrong with her." she sighed and looked over at her feet.

"You're right."

Eponine groaned and stood up. "I have to fulfill a bargain so I can finish a book, Marius. Try not to kill yourself getting drunk." she stomped back into the meeting and didn't listen to a word.

* * *

On the way back to the convent, too late for Cosette to care about getting in trouble, she looked up at Jehan. "You will talk to him, won't you?"

Jehan bit his nail and nodded. "Certainly."

"He seemed very wary of me."

She was speaking about Enjolras, and Jehan knew she was right. He shrugged anyway and said, "He doesn't talk to many women."

Cosette laughed. "Thank you, anyway, for the meeting. I enjoyed it very much."

The corner of the convent appeared around the corner and Cosette stopped Jehan. Nuns were always spying out the window and she knew if someone saw her with him again, she'd be dead meat for certain.

"Here's where I bid you goodnight."

He laughed. "Goodnight, Cosette."

"Goodnight, Jehan." she rose on her tip-toes and planted a firm kiss on his cheek before racing into the convent.

Jehan's face had never been, and never would be, more red in all of his life.

* * *

Enjolras slipped the paper into his pocket. _Note from Jehan. _He looked around the room and his eyes rested on Eponine, who's head was resting against a table. He smiled and walked over to her, gently touching her shoulder. She was awake, but lost in thought.

"It's time to go, Eponine," he said.

She nodded. "I know."

"Then," he chuckled. "Come along!"

"I'll catch up."

"No. We'll walk together." he pulled her up and guided her out the door. Once on the street, he let go of her hand and they walked home in silence. Inside the flat, he assumed she would go straight for her book, but she threw it down on the floor and curled up underneath her blanket. He frowned.

_What was her deal?_

Not being his area, Enjolras let her alone and headed to his room, closing the door a little roughly. He pulled out the note from Jehan and scanned over it quickly. His friend's handwriting was more than atrocious, so three times over, Enjolras finally understood. He wished to allow Cosette to join in the fight for freedom. God, Enjolras had been afraid of this. Didn't Jehan realize that he could _die _for this cause? Probably not. Jehan was so naïve and soft, he rarely noticed anything.

Enjolras fell back onto his bed with a grunt. What was he going to do? He couldn't just say flat out 'no,' Jehan might get the idea and leave altogether. But the woman, Cosette, had looked so fragile. Was she really capable of lending a hand? Enjolras figured not.

But, then again, upon first glance, Eponine looked rather sickly and dirty, but she was quite the opposite. Wasn't she part of the revolution? Not exactly one of _Les Amis_, but she certainly did attend most of the meetings and she was acquaintances, if not friends, will all of the boys. Eponine contributed and was a big insight into the people Enjolras was fighting for. Maybe this other woman could help, as well? He'd mull it over and let Jehan know in a few days.

For the moment though, there was a rather perturbed woman sitting out in Enjolras' flat and he really wanted to know what was eating her up inside.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Jehan couldn't put words down on paper. Usually they flowed like water from a stream, but Jehan's hand sat like lead on his desk. He wanted to write poetry for Cosette, since she sort of hinted at wishing to read his works. But ever since she left a burning kiss on his cheek, and her all around self took over him, Jehan had been at a stand-still for days. His cat jumped up onto his lap and purred. Jehan sighed and ran a hand over her tail. Célie nipped at his finger and ran off to the corner of Jehan's one-room home.

Cosette was an interesting one. Jehan couldn't tell whether or not he was madly in love with her, or he was just so confused by her that he needed to continued seeing her. He figured it was his first thought; he fell in love easy. Not that he would know; he'd never really been in love. He loved love, but he'd never experienced it. With a laugh, he stood up and grabbed his coat.

It suddenly dawned on him that telling her his confusion was the key to ending his standstill. He left his home with a skip in his step.

* * *

_Oh the darlings. Let me know what you're thinking! _

iPopular book in the 1830s. Written by Stendhal (a French writer) this book shows the life of "Julien Sorel who is determined to rise above his humble peasant origins and make something of his life-by adopting the code of hypocrisy by which his society operates." (Goodreads)

iiFirst published in 1820. Written by Charles Martuin, it is about a man named Melmoth who sells his soul to the Devil in order to gain an extra 150 years on his life. During those years, he spends his time searching for another person to take his place in the pact. Gothic, gruesome, and all-around a little creepy.


	9. Blemishes

_This chapter is all E/E, but don't fret because J/C will be back next chapter! (You guys are cute because it's like one chapter there are 9 reviews and then the next there are 3. ;)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: E/E _

_Blemishes_

Enjolras opened the door and grabbed a glass of water before he settled down in the chair across from Eponine. Her eyes remained focused on the floor and it was obvious she was brooding; he simply stared at her, waiting. Finally, she scoffed and rolled over so she was facing the ceiling.

"You gonna leave yet?"

Enjolras took a sip of luke-warm water. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

She closed her eyes in annoyance and Enjolras smirked behind his glass. "That's not answer."

"I want to know what's troubling you."

This time, she turned so her back was facing him. Enjolras sighed. It didn't seem like there would be any prospect of prying confessions out of her at the time, but Enjolras still waited. He was a patient man, most of the time, and he could deal with women and their moods (or so he hoped). He picked up a book off the floor and opened it, absentmindedly flipping throughout the pages, trying to make it seem like he was reading. Once in awhile, he would look up to see if she changed positions, but she was always back first, breathing slow, hair tucked well over her shoulder. He was determined to figure her out and he wanted to get it over with before his brain exploded and with her just _laying _there like a nail nothing would get done.

"Eponine," he said lowly.

She answered shortly afterward. "What?"

"Tell me."

Oddly enough, this opened her up. She sat up quickly and crossed her legs beneath her. An extremely prominent color lay on her cheeks; she was seething. Good God! That look in her eyes made Enjolras ever so slightly scoot farther back in his chair. He shifted awkwardly, suddenly unsure if he _really did _want to know what was bothering her.

"Well?" she asked. "Do you want to know or not?"

"What—uh—I thought that you..." he sighed. "Yes. Go ahead."

"It's that Cosette," she growled.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow; that girl, the one Jehan was stuck on. "What about her? I didn't even know you knew she existed." Eponine scoffed again and slid off the couch. She began to pace around it, though, and frankly, it gave Enjolras a headache.

"Of course I know who she is! She was my foster sister, after all, if you could even call it _that_."

With a furrow of his brow, Enjolras put his hands on his legs. "What are you saying?"

"Cosette… My parents took Cosette in when I was very young; they were paid to keep her. We treated her horribly and she never once said a bad word to us, or probably even about us. At the meeting, I sat beside Marius, and he went on and on and on about her." Eponine pretended not to see Enjolras wince at the name of Pontmercy. "It still hurts, you know? At the flit of a finger, Cosette has hundreds of people at her side. If I were to kill myself-"

"Eponine!" Enjolras scolded.

She ignored him and continued. "If I were to kill myself, 'Parnasse might be the only one who gave two sous."

"I would care," Enjolras whispered.

This stopped Eponine in her tracks. "Why?"

He shrugged. "We're friends, _n'est pas_?" he chuckled. "I'm letting you live in my home for pity's sake!"

"Enjolras," Eponine sighed, sitting back on the couch. "You don't understand."

"I can try."

She rolled her eyes and looked at the book-shelf. "You wouldn't be able to. You're marble."

Enjolras tried not to let the words hurt him. He'd heard them so many times before, but when they fell from her lips, it struck a chord; he felt his heart tear. Slapping his thighs, he stood up. "Well, if I'm marble, I guess I don't have to listen." He headed for his bedroom door. "Goodnight."

She stood up and held out a hand beseechingly. "Enjolras, I didn't mean to offend you."

"No." he shook his head. "No one ever does, but they do. As I said previously, _goodnight_." He slammed the door, and tried to get her out of his head.

* * *

Deeper into the night, as Eponine twiddled her fingers and Enjolras tossed in his bed, the two were trying desperately to not give in first. Eponine wanted to apologize, as did Enjolras. But he prided himself in being a man; he wouldn't break before her. Eponine, on the other hand, felt horrid for what she had said. She had been overcome with emotions and she didn't want to lose Enjolras' friendship, much less her new home. Finally, Eponine was the first to break. She stood up from her couch and knocked quietly, hoping, but not really, expecting an answer.

It took a moment, but Enjolras finally grunted and she entered quietly, pressing her back against the door. He stood by the window, hands behind his back. Though the curtains were not open, he could hardly care less.

"_Salut,_" she whispered; he nodded. "I'm sorry, Enjolras, for… what I said. I know that you have feelings and I care about them. I never meant to hurt you."

Enjolras looked at his toes and sighed. "I am sorry, too, if I hurt you."

"No, you never could."

He turned and Eponine felt her face heat up; he certainly was a beauty. Reaching for the door handle, she backed up. "Goodnight then." It was a certainly awkward situation, and Eponine didn't really know how to react, so she simply made her excuses.

He smiled and took a step forward. "Goodnight." He suddenly seemed to her like a soft little kitten. In the night, he really shed his "leader" skin and was softer. She had noticed it before. But then, in his room, so late at night, when the moonlight hit his back just right, it hit her full on like a horse.

Eponine could feel him closing in and her hand fell from the doorknob. "Enjolras," she said, swallowing. "I never got to properly thank you for letting me stay here."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? You've said it every waking moment."

She shrugged and blushed. "I just am _very _thankful. I-I don't exactly.." She took another step and her bare toes touched the tip of his shoes. She felt him tense, but she wouldn't let him slip away that easy. Maybe it was because of their heated words before, or maybe it was because she was exhausted and she just wanted someone to hold her for once, but somewhere in the back of Eponine's mind, she knew kissing Enjolras was going to be a bad idea. But she was going to do it, and he was going to like it.

'Ponine stood on her tiptoes and put her hands on Enjolras' shoulders. He moved back and she could faintly see the line in between his eyebrows. She heard him whisper her name in question, but she disregarded it and pressed her lips softly to his. He resisted and she held firmly, wrapping her arms around his neck. After a moment, he softened, as did his lips, and his hands held her waist, pulling her closer. She tasted oddly of mint and raspberries, and he of wine and paper. Eponine felt as if she were swimming into uncharted waters and Enjolras' mind was simply a mess. It was all so different to her, and it was all completely new to him. Women weren't his area; men who actually seemed to care weren't Eponine's. They both took some comfort in the fact that both were as equally as confused as the other.

And as far as Enjolras could tell, this was not the normal way to express one's thanks, but he certainly was not complaining.

* * *

Eponine had left before anything could progress. For some reason, she wanted to savor each kiss, that is, if she was planning on sharing any more with Enjolras, which she was _not_. Albeit, she had been thoroughly breathless when the kiss was over, and her brain hurt it was so confused, she wouldn't let it get to her. Enjolras was just a friend looking out for her, and in a moment of weakness, she tried to show him her thanks the only way she knew how.

It was dreadfully sad if one thought on it for too long. Over the years, Eponine had been mistreated so much by her parents and 'Parnasse (mostly 'Parnasse), the only way she knew how to defended herself was with her words, her fists, and her feet. The only way she knew how to thank a man (not related to her, of course) was to either get down on her knees or let him have _his _way; either way, she was paid for it.

The fact that Eponine had nearly given herself to Enjolras because she'd thought that's what he'd expected, worried her. Maybe she needed to get out. But that would drive her even more into poverty. Enjolras provided for her a nice, stable flat and she soon would go for that "interview" in town. Hopefully, she would get the job, and then, she could start paying him for letting her stay. It was the least she could do. She would not be a burden or a charity case, and she felt like both at the moment.

* * *

In Enjolras' mind, he was the one who ended their tryst, if you could call it that. He had been so unnerved and effected by her, he had to nearly push her out of the room. In a state of vulnerability, Enjolras would have cracked, and Eponine could have taken advantage of him. He didn't really think that she would, of course, but still, he had panicked. At least she was somewhat chuckling when he sent her away.

When the door had closed, he had fallen down in his chair and run a hand through his hair, trying to get control of his breathing. It was merely a kiss?! Why was he so shaken? In his heart, he was utterly confused, and in his mind (and south of the border), he knew exactly why. Eponine was a beautiful woman, no one could deny that. She'd come on strong and Enjolras had simply surrendered and thus acted like a simple schoolboy. In the least, he was embarrassed.

He didn't know whether he'd be able look her straight in the eye in the morning and not turn as red as Jehan did. Or not jump her and kiss her over and over. It would certainly be a test, and like any time, Enjolras was eager to pass.

* * *

_I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but I wanted to update really bad tonight. Please let me know what you think!_

_Jess_


	10. Angels and Toast

_I was going to devote this whole chapter to J/C because the last chapter was __**all **__E/E, but then the time framing didn't work out, so I had to decide against that. One chapter I will, though! Promise! Also, Judy-BB, I hope you like your morning scene. ;)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E _

_Angels and Toast_

Jehan made impeccable time. He left his own home, crossed through town, ran into a drunken Courfeyrac, escorted his friend back home, and made it to Cosette's in recording timing. He knew in his heart it was the few pints he had consumed earlier that spurred him along. Cosette had mentioned that she had acquired new accommodations within the convent, but Jehan had no idea as to where they were. He was intent on getting inside and at least getting one word in with her. Pulling his coat closer as he reached the massive doors, Jehan lowered his voice, and his head.

He knocked twice and the door opened promptly. Sister Henrietta stood behind it, eyebrows raised, waiting. Jehan cleared his throat.

"I am here to see _Monsieur _Fauchelevent," he rasped.

Henrietta looked him over once and moved to close the door, shaking her head. "I'm sorry; _Monsieur _Fauchelevent is not seeing anyone at the moment. Come again tomorrow."

Jehan stuck his hand out and deterred the door from closing any farther. "Please. It's urgent. It.. regards his factories."

Henrietta sighed and waved him in. She pointed to the archway directly before the door. "Stay there. I will fetch him." catching another leery glance at him, she scurried away to find Mother Superior.

Once Henrietta had turned the corner, and Jehan was sure she was a safe distance away, he himself turned the opposite corner. He had no idea where he was going, and if he had to knock on every single door in order to find Cosette, he would. The hallway he ventured down, was lined with archways that led into an indoor garden. The archways had small torches in the corners and it gave the whole hallway an eery glow. He decided to knock on the first door, about twenty feet away from the corner he had turned. Quietly, but quickly, he knocked on the door, hoping no one had heard him.

He had a small amount of time. Henrietta would be back any moment to tell him to leave because _Monsieur _Fauchelevent would most likely be indisposed. He prayed the door was the correct one.

* * *

Cosette jumped when the knock sounded on her door. She groaned, considering whether or not she should open it. It was probably her father, or Henrietta, her new supervisor. Honestly, she felt like a prisoner. Coming to the decision it would be best to stay on Henrietta's good-side, Cosette pulled the door open an inch, peering through the crack. She heard a deep sigh of relief, and she pulled the door open wider.

Her eyes fell on her visitor and she pulled her robe around her tighter, blushing deeply. "_Monsieur,_" she gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Jehan laughed and he looked like he was about to either hug her or shake her hand, but he held his ground. "_Mademoiselle_, thank heaven this is your room!"

Cosette frowned, moving herself behind the door, but keeping her head out. "I do not understand, _monsieur. _What is it that you want? I am hardly-"

Jehan stepped forward and held out his hand. "Cosette," he cleared his throat. "I have been trying for days now to write you something, something worthy of your beauty and grace, but I find myself unable to perform the task. So, I decided to come and tell you how I feel instead." his head turned when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching quickly; Cosette could feel her face heat up and her heart beat faster. "I don't have much time."

"Then please, pray tell, what is it?" she laughed nervously, wringing her hands together.

Jehan swallowed and looked at his toes. "To put it simply, you've.. you've invaded my heart, my mind, my soul. I cannot express it in words, though I wish I could. For the first time in my life, I am at a loss. I think that's why I am so enraptured by you. You stop everything around me: time, the revolution, my thoughts. You burst like song and you are a flower I wish I could tend to for all of my days-"

He heard a sharp gasp and footstep arriving where he should be, but was not. "_Monsieur! _Where did you go?"

With a broad smile on his face, he continued, slowly inching away from the door. Cosette, unintentionally, felt herself following him. "_Mademoiselle_, if you even feel an inkling of the same thing, I shall forever be yours." Cosette laughed loudly and Jehan blushed. "But, truly, I have put my heart into your hands, Cosette. Do with it as you chose."

Cosette opened her mouth to reply, but he pressed a finger to her lips. "Don't say anything. Please. Let me revel in the fact that I actually achieved in my quest in telling you these things. When you know your heart's true feelings, tell me at that time." he pressed a firm kiss to her wrist and looked up. "For now, since your Henrietta is on the prowl," he winked and she smiled, clutching his hand. "Goodnight, _mon ange_. Goodnight." he sauntered away, bowing before Henrietta, before leaving the convent with even more pep in his step than he had before.

Cosette stood at her door, awe-struck. The kiss he had left on her wrist still burned and she smiled, running her fingers over the spot she would not soon forget.

* * *

Eponine awakened feeling fresh and jittery. Her stomach was still a little in knots from the night- or was it morning- before. She couldn't shake the feeling that the day would proceed awkwardly, and with one look out of the window, she felt her stomach tighten even further. The rain was pouring and the beginnings of hail were appearing on the ground as well; there was no way in hell they would make it to the café without catching their death, or being beaten to death. Eponine, in the back of her mind, was happy God had decided to let all of hell spring forth, though. It would give her time to finish her book without being interrupted. Enjolras hardly left his room; too engrossed in his speeches and schoolwork to care whether or not Eponine was in the other room or not. How horridly wrong she was.

When he finally made his debut, around mid-morning, she was just getting ready to make a light breakfast. They had fallen into the habit of eating together twice each day. She had been living at his flat for three weeks and had been saving up some money to buy herself a small cot. She intended on asking Enjolras whether or not she could transform the back room, which served as a storage room, into her own room. There was just enough space for her to move around a few boxes, stack some crates, and still have both breathing room and moving room. She didn't think he would object, but she wanted to make sure.

He had obviously just woken up when he walked in. His eyes were bloodshot from not enough sleep and his hair was sticking out at the oddest ends. Eponine smiled to herself, pulling out a glass from the cabinet. She filled it with steaming tea and placed it into his hands, letting her fingers brush his knuckles. She noticed how he tried not to notice her touch, but failed incredibly.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of the team. "Good morning." his voice was laced with sleep and Eponine felt herself weaken. She replied with a smile. "By the way, I found an extra bed in one of the closets downstairs. _Monsieur _Provins said that you would be more than welcome to use it. I didn't think you would want to continue using the couch.." he trailed off before picking back up with, "I'll help you move things out of the storage room later on today. I don't think we'll be able to leave.. what with the weather."

Eponine, in a state of partial shock, could only nod and thank him quietly. He must have been able to read her mind. Enjolras, actually, was just trying to ramble so he didn't sound as nervous and awkward as he felt. With his news out of the way, the two simply fell into a companionable silence, like they usually did; they didn't feel the need to talk as much as often as others did.

So, like their routine had established, they began to prepare brunch. Standing beside each other, facing the counter, hips nearly touching, Eponine began to cut up the strawberries, while Enjolras reached for the bread and wine. She felt his shoulder brush her's when he moved to fetch two more glasses; she nearly cut herself instead of the fruit it shocked so much. After awhile, Eponine glancing to her left, watching as he poured their wine; his hands shook, whether from nerves or lack of sleep, she couldn't tell. Reaching out, she steadied his hand with her own and helped him pour the rest of the drink. She watched through hooded eyes his cheeks flame up.

Enjolras finished placing Eponine's tea and wine, and his own wine, on the table before he absentmindedly brushed a smudge of berry juice off her cheekbone. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He wanted to so badly to kiss her again. As was her habit, Eponine had snuck a few strawberries for herself, and her lips were stained a deeper red than usual. He was positive she tasted of it. Her eyes became darker and his breathing quickened; he had to do something before he couldn't take it any longer. So, he held up a piece of bread and asked quietly, "Toast?"

Eponine's eyes changed from hooded, to surprised, to delighted so quickly, he nearly missed all of the emotions at once. She laughed so hard she had to hold onto his forearm for support. He couldn't resist smiling as well. Finally, she composed herself and nodded, taking the bread from his hand, sitting down in her respective seat. Enjolras sat down beside her and they slowly began to eat, making painfully comfortable small talk. Halfway through the brunch, Eponine suddenly leaned over and smoothed her hand through his hair, flattening the odd angles. He looked at her with surprise.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It just looked so ridiculous." she smiled softly and Enjolras looked down at his plate.

In return, he moved the stray pieces of hair away from her face. Eponine blushed deeply and stood up from the table, quickly. Enjolras followed her movement, afraid that he had done something wrong. On the contrary, Eponine's heart was just beating too fast for her to stay sitting down. He cleared his throat once more.

"If you'd like to go downstairs now, I suggest you put on something warmer."

Eponine nodded and moved to her small bag, pulling out a sweater and her corset. Enjolras blushed and skirted into his room. After a moment, he heard her enter as well. His red faced colored even further when he saw her pale shoulders and tiny waist.

She looked over her shoulder, rather confident in herself. "Tie me up, will you?" she asked. Enjolras only nodded. He moved to stand behind her and she could suddenly feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. She regretting pulling her hair up. His fingers were surprisingly deft at pulling the strings through the loops and tucking her in. With one last, rather rough pull, Eponine fell back against Enjolras with a muffled _oomph_. In stead of darting from the room and blushing to death, she turned around and pulled his loose jacket tighter around him.

"Hand me your tie," she said. He did as she bade, and soon, Eponine's hands were skillfully tying his necktie and their faces were mere inches apart before Enjolras sneezed.

Eponine, a little shocked, fell back. He was afraid she would curse at him, but instead, she wiped at her cheek and let out a large laugh. Enjolras, relieved and embarrassed, laughed too.

She stopped laughing then, and grinned, running a hand through her now loose hair. "_Merci, monsieur_," she said. "I will treasure your spittle always."

Enjolras shook his head and pushed her lightly into the sitting room, throwing her the worn brown dress. Eponine shrugged it over her head and then pulled on her sweater. Before they left though, Enjolras sighed and promptly gave up. She was too damn beautiful in the morning not to...

He put a hand behind her neck while she braided her hair and she looked up, thinking she had something on her face. Instead, his lips locked onto hers once more, and she was once more at his disposal.


	11. Stutters

_Thanks for all the kind reviews and follows. :D_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E _

_Stutters_

Cosette folded her letter into her envelope and tucked it into her dress pocket. Then, she pulled it back out and placed it back onto her desk. Staring at it intently, she nodded once, maybe twice, before grabbing her coat. The rain had finally stopped later on that afternoon, and there was still time for Cosette to get to the café before the meeting started. The letter was addressed to her father, explaining where she had run off to; for once, it held the truth. Hopefully, Henrietta would find it and give it to her father, or Cosette would return before either of them could get their hands on it.

Outside, the world smelled of lightening and dust. Cosette smiled. Just after rain was her favorite part of any day. The people just emerging from their homes, the children playing in puddles, it all made her heart clench with joy. Her walk turned into a brisk saunter as her hopes grew higher and higher. She had thought much about what Jehan had said to her the night before. It still made her blush and smile to herself. The things Jehan had said had given her a better outlook on life. At the time, she was focused solely on her newfound heritage and the lies that surrounded her. But Jehan.. He made it all different. Cosette hoped and prayed that once she told him of her mother- _if _she told him- he would still feel the same for her.

In her heart she knew he would, but in her mind, she was cautious.

* * *

Eponine was satisfied with herself. She and Enjolras had transformed his small storage room into her own room in less than three hours; they still had time to go to the meeting, since the rain was finally over. Eponine was more than satisfied, she was proud, and she was happy. For the first time, she had a space she could use for her reading and for her art; maybe she would make Enjolras a little something that would brighten his bare walls?

She turned around and smiled. Enjolras leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She swallowed and looked away. He was so oblivious to how beautiful he really was.

"I think we did quite well," she said.

Enjolras nodded. "Yes. I'm glad you're happy with it."

She turned around and picked up her book. "I finished it, by the way. Interesting book overall." Enjolras tore the book from her hand and rolled his eyes; Eponine laughed quietly and found her coat. "Should we go then?"

"To the meeting?" he asked from the living room.

"What else?!"

Enjolras cracked his neck and poked his head back in the door. "If you'd like that, then we can."

Eponine regarded him with confused eyes. She left her room and closed the door behind her. "Enjolras, these are _your _meetings. You're sort of required to go to them."

Enjolras smiled slightly. "Well, I figured that because of the rain, many of _Les Amis _might not be able to make it. If we did go, it would probably just be Grantaire, and maybe 'Ferre, but as I said earlier, if you'd like to go, just to get out.."

Eponine sighed and felt her lip tug upward. "I would like to go."

He nodded. "Let me get my coat."

* * *

When Cosette reached the café, so did Enjolras and Eponine. Being the gentleman he was, he held the door open for the two, and Cosette scurried in first, hardly looking at Eponine. Eponine was quite contrite by the time Enjolras met her at a small table in the corner. He sighed and looked around for Combeferre, but to no avail. Although he really did care for others' feelings (albeit, he didn't know what his own feelings for _Eponine _were at the moment), Enjolras was not really in the mood to deal with sob stories of the past. He always looked more toward future. Maybe out of habit because of his own past, but he still preferred to dwell on what could be, not what should have been.

"Would you like anything?" he asked quietly, itching to find an excuse to get away.

Eponine looked up. Enjolras felt a twinge of guilt. Her eyes were so sad. "No."

He nodded. "I'll go see if anyone else is here." Enjolras skirted out of the table and into the backroom. To his utter relief, Combeferre was settled at the table, reading. He nearly cried with joy. "Combeferre!" he said, rather too loudly. His friend jumped and looked up.

He laughed hesitantly. "Enjolras?"

"Come with me, 'Ferre! Let's go sit out in the café and have a drink," with an unusual cheerfulness, Enjolras nearly dragged Combeferre out of the backroom into the front. Quickly, he shoved Combeferre into the unoccupied seat beside Eponine and turned away, muttering, "Drinks."

Eponine looked up and beside her. "Combeferre," she said. He nodded, twiddling his thumbs. "What do you have there?" she pointed to the book in his lap.

He smirked and put it on the table. "A book."

She glared at him and put the book in her own hands. "On.. mapmaking?" Nearly laughing, Eponine opened the cover and skimmed the first couple of pages. "It's boring," she noted, pushing it back to him. Combeferre shrugged and held it close to his chest.

"It's useful."

Enjolras came back at that moment, setting on the table two glasses of wine and one cup of tea. Eponine looked up at him and smiled in thanks. He felt color rise to his cheeks as he sat down. Thankful then for his friend, the two delved into an intricate conversation on what would be the workings of their revolution. Eponine hardly listened, choosing to people-watch instead. It had been something she had adored since she was very young. When living on the run, or just plain out on the streets, there wasn't much for one to do other than steal or stare. She watched the people come and leave, order and pay. It was oddly relaxing, and soon, she felt her eyelids begin to drop.

"Eponine," she heard. Snapping her eyes open, Eponine started forward, nearly spilling her now-cold tea.

"What?!" she blinked several times to get the sleep away.

Enjolras chuckled slightly. "You have a brother, do you not?"

Eponine furrowed her brow and tilted her chin. "Yes..."

Combeferre nodded like it meant something important. Eponine frowned deeper. "Why would you like to know, _monsieur_?"

Combeferre swallowed a gulp of wine before answering. "No reason. Just wondering." Eponine raised her eyebrow. She hadn't seen Gavroche in quite sometime, but anytime she could get news on the little bugger, her heart felt slightly better. "Alright; fine." Combeferre smiled and held up his hands. "He seems to have taken quite a liking with Courfeyrac. When Courf came to my apartment last night, Gavroche- was that his name?- Yes. Gavroche was with him."

Eponine's smile brightened. "Really?! How is he doing, _monsieur_?"

"As well as can be expected."

"Is he sick? Injured?" Combeferre shook his head to both questions. "Well, then, he's doing fine."

Enjolras smiled at his wine. Combeferre narrowed his eyes at Enjolras before saying, "Yes. I suppose so. Would you like to see him?" Eponine nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

In the backroom of the café, Cosette and Jehan were tucked away on the side, deep in conversation. He was explaining to her the roots of his need to be a part of the revolution. She admired him even more then; with his talk of the poor, and oppressed, Cosette wanted even more, too, to be a part of something bigger than herself.

"What do you think Enjolras will say," she asked, shifting in her chair.

Jehan shrugged and leaned back, kicking his feet up on the windowsill. "I'm not sure. Eponine is a part of us, I suppose, so I don't think he'll have much of a problem with it."

Cosette nodded and clutched her reticule tighter. "Yes. Eponine."

"Do you know her? I think I saw her earlier. She's really quite lovely."

Cosette didn't give him an answer.

Jehan pulled his feet back and leaned forward, placing a hand on Cosette's wrist. "Are you alright, Cosette?"

She turned her head quickly and nodded. "Of course." But her smile was too bright for her to be okay. Still, Jehan nodded. If something was troubling her, she would tell him.

"It's just.. I lived with her for awhile when I was very young." Cosette sighed. "She didn't treat me very well. Sometimes, I'll think back on it, and it still hurts."

Jehan's eyes widened and he pulled his chair closer to Cosette, pulling one of her hands into his lap. Her eyes remained focused on the pattern of her dress. "Cosette, look at me." She did. "Would you like for me to speak with Eponine?"

"No!"

"Why ever not?" he brushed the hair away from her face. "If she hurt you, it should be resolved."

Cosette blushed and moved her hand away, rubbing her eyes. "It was far in the past, Jehan."

"That doesn't matter."

She looked at him with a pointed glare and Jehan sighed, moving back. "To me it does."

"If you say so-"

"I do."

Jehan nearly laughed. The fire in her eyes was quite overwhelming and the fact that she was getting so riled up for such a small thing made Jehan want to pull her into his arms, or just laugh at her. He did the latter, his face nearly turning blue. All the while, Cosette's anger grew and grew. She was so confused. Why was Jehan laughing at her? Had she said something wrong? Slamming her foot on the floor, Cosette groaned loudly.

"What is so funny?" she demanded.

"You're so funny when you're angry!"

She scoffed. "You're just like my father! Every time I become angry, he makes fun of me, and then I can't be angry any longer." In truth, she felt the slightest of smiles creeping onto her face; that frustrated her even further.

He shrugged. "I'll make it a point to make you angry all the time when we're married, then, I can make you laugh, and you'll be even more angry." he chuckled and sat back in his seat, biting his knuckle.

Cosette's face had gone deathly pale. "What did you just say?" she asked lowly.

"I said, I'll try and make you angry all the time when we're marr-" Jehan bit his tongue. His face flamed up. Dear God! Had he said that out loud? He really wished he could jump out the window before him. "I.. I didn't..."

Cosette sat as still as marble. Her blue eyes were wide with fear, excitement, and trepidation. Jehan rubbed his forehead and bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. After a moment, he said, "I didn't mean that."

"Obviously you did."

Jehan couldn't tell whether she was angry, or nervous, or both. He apologized again and she scoffed. Frowning, Jehan looked up at her; her fingers were shaking. She was still angry and he could tell from the way her nose twitched. He rolled his eyes and stood up to his full height.

Cosette expected him to leave. Good; he'd scared her half to death.

Instead, she felt two large, and calloused hands hold the sides of her face. Cosette jumped and turned her head, ready to smack Jehan if she had to. But with one look into his fiercely determined eyes, she stopped. Her heart fluttered like the tail of a fish. His lips soon landed on hers and if Cosette's eyes weren't already as big as saucers they soon were. Jehan felt, while kissing her, his confidence soar through the roof. Every time he got closer to her, he was more and more sure of himself. And for a man who rarely felt that way, it was certainly nice. When he pulled away, Cosette's eyes were still big and he returned to his full height.

"I couldn't really help that, either," he said quietly before exiting the room, and the café.

* * *

_Yes. Yes. SHIPPPPPPP._


	12. Brightened Days

_Just shameless fluff all around because I feel like it. The revolution will be coming more into play the next chapters and onward._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E _

_Brightened Days_

Enjolras swung the door open with much effort. He felt Eponine's fingers twinged within his own, and soon, the weight of her head pressed against his shoulder. They'd been at the café for far too long to be healthy, and they'd been involved in one too many arguments. Enjolras could nearly feel his brain leaking from his ears. When Eponine bypassed her new room and headed straight for Enjolras', he didn't raise his voice to ask her where the hell she was going; he just followed her lead.

She had fallen face first onto his bed, legs spewed every which way, one hand fisted into her hair. Enjolras smiled weakly and tugged off her shoes and outer jacket.

"Ep?" he whispered. She moaned in response. "Are you going to sleep in your dress?" A pillow hit just below his face. "I suppose so then.."

He, too, shrugged off his jacket, his shirt, and shoes. Then, he simply stood at the foot of his bed, hands on his hips. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, not Eponine's, or the couch. But he felt incredibly awkward thinking of sleeping beside Eponine. He didn't know whether or not he could sleep that way.

"Enjolras, get in bed," she said into the mattress. "I won't bite.. Unless you want me to." Little did he know the words were the exact ones 'Parnasse used; they made him chuckle and ease up, they made Eponine tense and bite her tongue. .

He slid into the covers beside her, ruffling her hair, and turning over so his back faced her. The room was quiet, thick with tension, and confusion. Eponine tossed and turned until she finally pressed her forehead against Enjolras' bare back. He was startled and jumped ever so slightly. Eponine chuckled; he could feel her breath on his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "When I was younger, I used to sleep like this with my sister." Enjolras nodded. "You don't mind?"

"No."

She pressed a soft kiss to his back. "Good, because, I wasn't going to move either way. You're warm and I'm cold."

Enjolras smiled and rolled over, pulling her onto his chest. "Sleep this way then, so I can get some rest without being afraid of disturbing you."

"If you wish," she mumbled. She could feel his heart beat rapidly below her cheek and she smiled. "Goodnight, Enjolras."

* * *

"Courfeyrac said he'd be stopping by sometime today with Combeferre; something about maps. I'll be sure to stay out of your hair then." Eponine pulled apart a piece ofher bread and lathered a generous amount of butter atop it; Enjolras smirked and swirled the coffee around in his mug. By now, it was cold, but he was past worrying about warmth and food. His mind was too full with other things.

"You can stay, if you'd like," he said, reaching for the bread. "You have good things to add.. sometimes."

Eponine couldn't help but roll her eyes. As much as she liked being around Enjolras, and just, _liked_ him, the revolution was clearing _his _territory, and he didn't want anyone going in and messing it up. "I would rather read, _monsieur_."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Eponine returned to her food. Then, she looked up and squinted her eyes at the now reading Enjolras. She didn't quite understand what was going on between the two of them. She'd slept in his arms the night before, and it felt perfectly blissful and _right. _He'd awakened her when there was a storm early the morning, just to show her the way the lightening lit up the sky. Instead of watching the sky, she had watched the way the light only lit up a portion of his face. She'd noticed then, like she had before, that he was literally the most beautiful man probably ever the grace the planet (at least, in her opinion). Sometimes when she looked at him, it physically _hurt_. And the worst part was, he had no idea. She was so confused as to why he would ever spend his time with her, or when give her the time of day; he had so many other things, so many other people, on his mind. The fact that _she _fit into of those thousands of compartments in his head made her want to cry and kiss him until the world ended.

He was so good to her, and it made no sense. She didn't know what she felt for him. He made her heart race like ten thousand horses and her brain spin until she spat out only strings of vowels and had to walk away to compose herself. It was infuriatingly wonderful.

"How is your side?" he asked, breaking her out of her pensive mood.

"What? Oh. My side?" she furrowed her brow. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You were fingering the spot just a moment ago." Enjolrad nodded toward her rib-cage.

"Was I?" She hadn't noticed.

"Yes." Enjolras stared at her for a moment. "Are you alright, Eponine?" he closed his book and looked deep into her eyes. Eponine nodded quickly.

"'Course. Everything is fine."

"You haven't gone back to him, have you?" Eponine couldn't tell whether his voice was laced with jealousy or concern; she went with the latter, but secretly knew it was the former.

"No, _monsiuer._" This was a lie. Eponine had ran into 'Parnasse the day she left her home; she'd gone to him to return some of his things. Upon telling him her plan (though, not stating her new lodgings), 'Parnasse had merely rolled his eyes, and wiped his hands clean of her. It had gone surprisingly well, and she was thankful for such.

"Good."

"Thank you for allowing me to use your bed last night, Enjolras," she changed the touchy subject, blushing; the color rose to his face, too.

"It was of no inconvenience to me."

"Well," she said, standing up to wash her plate. "We should do it some other time." she winked and skirted off to the wash basin. Enjolras coughed several times and Eponine laughed. "Cat got your tongue?"

He shook his head. "No. You're merely-"

"Forward?" she smile grew.

"I was going to say presumptuous, but that works too."

Eponine pouted, her hands covered in water and soap bubble. "Does this mean we cannot sleep together again, _monsieur_? But you were so warm! Oh, and you made these endearing little noises in your sl-"

Enjolras blushed and stood up so quickly his chair toppled over. "Stop. No more." Eponine laughed and Enjolras scowled. "I am going to go get ready for our visitors. Tell me when they've arrived."

Eponine nodded, bowing. "Of course, _your majesty._"

With a mock gasp, Enjolras swooped forward in one motion and gathered Eponine into his arms. "_Mademoiselle, _you wound me!"

Eponine rubbed her nose against Enjolras'. "I apologize, _monsieur_, if I have hurt your marble-self."

He pressed their lips together once, twice. "You have. I don't know if I'll ever be able to mend."

Eponine smirked. "Kisses make it better?"

Enjolras tore at her lips with his own again, hungry for more. "Oh, yes, please."

* * *

Cosette wasn't too sure of where Jehan lived; really, she had no clue. He'd only ever come to the convent once, and she'd only met him at the garden, as well as the café. It had been one full week since he'd kissed her, and she hadn't seen high nor low of him the whole seven days. It was as if he was avoiding her on purpose. Cosette didn't blame him, of course. She hadn't said anything after his deed, which probably put the notion into her head that she was displeased, or angry. She hadn't felt as such, and still didn't.

Her father was becoming more lenient, which stuck her as odd. He'd been so forceful with the new rules set in place for her at first, but now, he said that since he would be gone all the time, it only seemed fair that Cosette be allowed to wander about, too. She was now allowed to stay within a two miles radius of the convent for three hours a day. Of course, Cosette didn't listen to the area-restrictions; she went where she pleased.

Running a hand along the windowsills still wet from the previous night's rain, Cosette found herself in the area near the convent that housed many students, doctors, and merchants. She'd never been, mind you; she wasn't allowed to leave before. But she figured it was as good of a place as any to try searching for Jehan.

If there was one thing Jehan loved more than poetry, it was flowers. This was her first guess that the house on the end of the row was his. There were potted flowers outside the door, and several roses on the windowsill. Plus, one of Jehan's jackets was hanging out of the front window to dry. Cosette grinned. Rushing over, she raised her fist to knock on the door, but it opened before she could tap a few times.

Joly stood on the opposite side; he lurched back upon finding her there, letting out a small yell of surprise. Cosette, too, was startled, and she fell back a step, gasping for the air that had left her.

"Joly!" she cried. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

Joly nodded and wiped his brow. "_Mon dieu. _You scared me, as well."

Cosette smiled and held her hands together. "Is Jehan here, per chance?"

Joly nodded and stepped aside. "Certainly, _mademoiselle. _I was just leaving." he touched the brim of his hat with his finger. "Good day. See you tonight I expect."

"Yes, you will." Cosette faced the door and nodded. "Good day, _monsieur_."

Turning, Cosette was faced with the quaintest flat she'd ever seen. Three of four rugs were scattered along the floor, all bright with reds and oranges. Several paintings were on the walls, as well. One table equipped with two chairs sat in the middle of the room across from the small countertop pressed against the wall. There was a writing desk below the window on the right wall and the window was thrown open to let in both light and air. Jehan's bed was also situated against the right wall, the head of the bed just below the window on the front wall. The sheets were nicely made and a fat cat was purring on the pillow.

Cosette couldn't help but giggle. Everything was so _Jehan._

She placed her bag on the bedside table and pulled off her bonnet, placing it beside her bag. Jehan was not in the room, though she could hear him in the bathroom off down an extremely small hall. So, she waited for him, choosing not to tell him she was there; he might not come out at all if she did. Instead, she went to his writing desk and picked up the leather-bound notebook he was always carrying about. He was always making little notes at the top of each page, or writing long poems on the margin of pages already too full to read the newer poems. Cosette brushed her hand along the front and then cracked open the spine.

She flipped throughout a few pages, reading the notes and the writings. Jehan's handwriting was elegant, though sometimes it could be hurried and atrocious. But when he wrote in his notebook, it was the best he ever did. The first note she came across was one in the top left corner near the front of the book. _Tell Comberferre to fix the crack in his glasses. _Cosette smiled; obviously, he'd forgotten to, because Combeferre still had a small line on the left lens he would often try to clean off. The next one was an endearing poem about a woman and her child. He must have been watching them as he wrote it.

_Buy Cosette a flower_, was written in the margin on a page of revolution notes. She smiled to herself and ran a finger over the letters.

"Joly, I tried to get the dirt out of it, but I'm not sure if-" Cosette pushed the book back onto the desk as Jehan walked into the room, a towel throw over his shoulder, his head looking- or trying- to look at something over his shoulder.

Cosette blushed and ducked her head when their eyes met. He was naked from the waist up, besides a large white wrap around his middle. She stumbled back a few steps, embarrassed to have intruded upon his privacy.

"Oh, _mademoiselle_," Jehan breathed, gulping. He noticed his state of undress and quickly reached for his shirt, throwing it over his shoulder and placing the towel on a chair beside the closet. "I thought you were Joly."

Cosette raised her eyebrows. "Yes, well.."

"What-what are you doing here?" he stammered.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said, looking up.

Jehan looked confused. "About what?"

"The other night.. About a week ago." her foot shuffled on the ground and made a light scratching noise.

Jehan nodded then. "Won't you sit down?" he motioned for the chair before him. Cosette shook her head. "Alright then." he stayed standing, too. "What is it you would like to say?"

Suddenly nervous, Cosette pointed to Jehan's now-covered middle. "That wrap.. What is it for? Did you get hurt?"

Jehan smirked. "You could say that."

"What happened?"

"I was in a.. I fell," he finished lamely.

"Oh.."

"I was trying to.. trying to look at this bird's nest in a tree and my foot slipped. On the way down, my back got sliced open from a rather sharp branch." he laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nature.."

Cosette smiled. "My goodness."

He shrugged. "Joly cleaned it up, so it's alright. Now, please, won't you tell me what you're here for?"

Cosette frowned slightly. If he was trying to get rid of her, it wouldn't work that easily; still, it all came out in one large sentence. "Are you trying to avoid me, Jehan, because if you are, I can tell, and it's making me very anxious and I don't know what I've done that's offended you or hurt you? Please note that I had no intention of doing so, if I did. Your kiss the other night.. Your kiss simple caught me off guard and I didn't know what to do. I tried to come and find you, but I didn't know where you lived.."

Jehan smiled the whole while, arms crossed. When she finally finished, he pursed his lips. "I was not offended by you, Cosette. It is I who should have come to find you. I was being silly. I thought you were going to be angry with me, so I left. I was too nervous to come and face my fears after that."

Cosette sighed. "Were you just never going to speak to me again?" she asked quietly; he shrugged.

"I don't have a good history with women who actually care."

Cosette nodded. That seemed to be the fate of most of the men within _Les Amis_. "Well," she smiled brightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Jehan smiled and ducked his head. "Good. I was afraid you might."

"No; never. I read some of your poetry. I hope you don't mind." she quickly changed the subject and moved back to his notebook. "It was lovely."

Jehan's face lit up and he moved to her side quickly. "If you'd like, I can show you some of the places I best get inspiration." Cosette noticed the fire in his eyes; how excited he was at the prospect of showing her his world.

"I'd love that."


	13. A Fighting Chance

_As I promised, more of the revolution. I am going away on vacation from Sunday until Sunday and I won't have Internet, so, this will most likely be the last chapter until the week after next. I know. Poopy. But, I'll try and see if I can find some way to write ahead. _

_Until then, stay awesome, campers!_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E; E/R (one-sided)_

_A Fighting Chance_

Marius tapped his pen on the table and sighed, resting his cheek in his palm. She should be here by now. Jehan was, and he didn't look at all worried or nervous. Usually, the two came in together. Marius figured Enjolras probably wouldn't let her in, but since Eponine was involved, maybe he would make _one more _exception. He certainly hoped so.

Right when Enjolras stepped up to introduced the man who needed no introductions, Courfeyrac, who was giving the speech that night, Cosette skirted it. Marius felt his head lift from his hand. She flitted around the back of the room, hardly noticed by anyone. When she passed him, Marius gulped in the scent of her hair. She smelled of pansies.

Jehan waved her over to the seat beside him. Marius frowned. Beside him, Grantaire and Eponine were smirking and chuckling into their drinks; they were thick as thieves, and certainly a pair of them, too. Marius elbowed 'Ponine, and she spat her drink back into her cup, laughing harder.

"Marius, that little lark over there is well on her way to being taken. I suggest you back off," she smiled and began laughing again.

Marius didn't respond, but sank deeper into his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.

* * *

Cosette could feel the energy in the room. Every single man was leaning forward on his chair (at least, the men in the front of the room were), hanging onto every word Courfeyrac was speaking. Cosette, too, was feeling the effects of his speech. That particular night the topic was on the Red Light District and its dangers for those caught within it and the rest of the surrounding areas. Cosette found it to be ironic such was the topic. Still, she listened eagerly.

When Courfeyrac was finally finished, she- along with everyone else- flew into a frenzy of clapping hands. Jehan glanced at Cosette and she smiled back at him. The day before, when they had gone on their walk, Jehan had admitted to keeping the news that Enjolras agreed to her joining the revolution a secret. She'd been a little offended at first, but quickly gotten over it when she realized what it all meant.

Courfeyrac took a bow and thus more cheers erupted; Cosette glanced at Enjolras. He was shaking his head with a small smile on his face, his hands clapping slowly. The room then settled down into what Jehan called "planning periods." He explained that a variety of different things went on at that time, and that Enjolras would probably mosey over sooner or later to introduce her to the lads. The thought made Cosette's ears burn. Jehan told her to stay mostly to herself- and him- until then.

Finally, right before Cosette was ready to get up and leave she'd been waiting so long, Enjolras walked up to the pair, a broad smile on his face. Cosette looked up and grined expectantly.

"_Bonjour, mademoiselle. _As you well know, I am Enjolras. I assume you are Cosette?" Cosette nodded and Enjolras bent forward, kissing the top of her hand. Jehan rolled his eyes. When Cosette finished blushing, Enjolras cocked his head toward the makeshift podium. "Come. Let me introduce you."

"Oh. No, _monsieur. _You don't have to-"

Enjolras took her hand and nearly dragged her to the stage. "No; no. I insist." he pounded up onto the platform in one step, while Cosette took two. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she found her hands clenched around the pamphlet in her hands. Looking back at Jehan for support, he smiled reassuringly at her, and waved her to go stand closer to Enjolras. She did as he suggested. Enjolras cleared his throat, and with that small sound, the men reverted their attention to the platform. Cosette was so nervous, and slightly embarrassed, she wished she could curl in on herself and call it a day.

"Gentleman," Enjolras said. He then looked toward Eponine in the back. "Ladies, I have someone to introduce to you." he turned toward Cosette and gave her a small smile at the look of her fearful face. "This is Cosette.. Cosette?"

"Just Cosette," she whispered.

He looked rather alarmed for a split second and then righted himself, facing his men once again. "Cosette. She's joining our fight."

Cosette held her breath, yet willed herself not to shut her eyes in fear. The room was deathly silent before Combeferre smiled and said, "Welcome." With that, Cosette nearly fell onto the floor in relief. She smiled at him and he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before looking back at the papers before him. Cosette looked at Enjolras who smiled.

"You can go now," he whispered. Cosette darted from the platform and back to her seat, not before Joly caught her hand. She looked down and smiled.

"Joly."

"Cosette! I am rather pleased you are being added and not Courfeyrac's mistress." he winked and Cosette pressed his hand.

"Thank you, Joly. I suppose.."

"Trust me. It's a complement." Grantaire slid into the chair before Joly. Cosette looked over her shoulder for Jehan, but he was over into another corner, so she sat down at the table, too.

"And you are?" she asked, suddenly rather confident.

"Grantaire."

"He doesn't add much," Joly whispered.

"I come for the gin and the good-looking women who sometimes happen to come in; you'd be the first example." he winked.

Joly rolled his eyes. "That is not the truth. Tell her the truth, R!"

"Fine." Grantaire sighed and made a flourish with his bottle. "I was outside one day- many moons ago- when this strapping young gentleman starting preaching about whats-it. Others started listening, too, and they all followed him inside this here café. I guess I was either bored, drunk off my seat, or enthralled by his likeness to Apollo, so I came in, too, and I haven't left since."

Joly leaned back with a smirk on his face. "That's more like it."

Cosette laughed. "You do not believe in what he believes in then?"

Grantaire shrugged. "Not sure; don't pay attention."

Cosette felt her brow pull down. "You should."

Grantaire looked away, signifying the end of the conversation. Just as well, because some of the others came over to introduce themselves. Cosette and Combeferre struck up quite an immediate friendship, and the two stuck beside one another for the rest of the evening. It was Marius who never moved an inch to speak to the new girl. He sulked the night away, with Eponine beside him, resting quietly. Courfeyrac noticed the young soon-to-be lawyer's expression and came to sit beside him.

"What's eating you," he asked calmly.

Marius pulled his arms closer. "Does Jehan have his eyes set on Cosette?"

Courf laughed, hitting his knee. "This is wonderful! Of course, he does, _mon ami._ Anyone who doesn't see that is blind. Are you saying that you like the little _mademoiselle _as well?" Marius blushed. "This is perfect," he repeated. "Really, Pontmercy, only you would choose the girl already chosen."

"Leave me alone, Courfeyrac," he grumbled, curling in on himself.

"No, I don't think I will." Courf slapped his friend's back. "You could nurse a good ale and tell me your sob stories; I'd rather not go home to Marie yet, thank you very much."

Marius sighed and rolled his eyes.

"The little buzzing feeling in your brain will do you good," the other man said.

"_Alright!_"

"That's my boy!"

* * *

Across the room, Cosette had finally settled back down beside Jehan again, breathless and smiling. "That Combeferre really knows his stuff," she commented, pushing the loose hairs away from her eyes.

Jehan nodded and looked over his shoulder at his friend. "_Oui. _He certainly does. I'm glad the two of you are friends." he looked back at his book with a small smile.

Cosette swallowed a sip of water from the cup before her. "Grantaire seems.. different."

"He's only here for Enjolras," Jehan mumbled, scrawling down more words.

"I gather that.. but why?"

Jehan looked up, perplexed. "Why what?"

"Why does he not believe in what Enjolras says?"

Jehan smiled. "Not everyone will agree with our cause, Cosette."

She nodded and picked at a loose string on her skirt. "Yes. Yes, I know, but then why does he come?"

"I said: for Enjolras." Prouvaire chuckled at her still-confused expression. "Grantaire has no beliefs. He is known as our cynic. He likes to play devil's advocate, and often, Enjolras just yells for him to get out, or shut up. Grantaire still comes back the next day.."

"That seems odd.."

Jehan leaned in closer and motioned for her to do the same; Cosette leaned in and Jehan had to brace himself. It was all he could do not to kiss her. "Grantaire is quite enamored by Enjolras. Some would even go so far as to say the cynic loved his Apollo."

Cosette gasped. "Really?!" her eyes were bright with intrigue and happiness. Jehan merely nodded and she lightly touched his knee. "And what do you think, Jehan?"

At this, Jehan leaned back. "I think Grantaire is a fool."

Cosette pouted and looked away. "Oh.."

Jehan closed his notebook with a slap. "If you would like to leave now, Cosette, I wouldn't blame you. It's been a very exciting day, and I'm feeling rather tired."

Cosette took a look around the room. Many people had left; in fact, Enjolras and Eponine had just skirted out the back down, deep in conversation. Cosette felt herself yawn and nod. Jehan smiled and stood up, extending his arm for her. She took it, and the two walked out into the night in silence. Once outside, suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Cosette leaned her head on Jehan's shoulder. It felt... comforting. Jehan smiled to himself and walked themselves along. When they reached the convent, Cosette turned and smiled tiredly.

"Goodnight, Jehan. Thank you for a wonderful evening." She couldn't help but notice their hands that lingered together.

Jehan smiled. "Goodnight, _mademoiselle._"

Cosette squeezed his hand and dropped it, turning to go inside. Before she closed she door, she came back outside and closed the door in one fluid motion. "Would you like to see my father's shops tomorrow? Then go to the meeting? I know it doesn't sound that exciting, but it would give us time to be-"

"I'd love to."

"Good. Goodnight, Jehan," she repeated.

On sudden impulse, Jehan leaned forward and pressed a solid kiss to her lips. He pulled back before Cosette could react. "Goodnight, Cosette."

* * *

"Enjolras, Courfeyrac is a lovely speaker. You should let him speak more often." Eponine winked as she closed the door to _their _flat. Enjolras rolled his eyes and shrugged off his red jacket, tossing it onto the back of a chair.

"Hush, 'Ponine. You know not of what you speak," he jested, sticking his tongue out at her for added effect. Eponine feigned shock and stamped her foot.

"_Monsieur!_"

Enjolras laughed and brushed the hair from her forehead. "Goodness, Eponine; it's too easy to get you riled up."

Eponine blushed and looked away, tracing her finger on the scar just above his collarbone. She shrugged. Enjolras pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why are you so good to me?" she whispered, kissing beneath his ear.

"Because you deserve so much more."

"I wish I could believe that you meant that."

Enjolras pushed her back arms-length. He was frowning and Eponine closed her eyes; he looked disappointed and Eponine couldn't bare that. "I think you know that I do," his voice was harsh.

Eponine sighed and pushed him away. "Goodnight, Enj. Sleep well. I'll.. see you in the morning."

Enjolras did not answer, and left to slam the door to his room behind his retreating form. Eponine winced at the impact and went into her own room, softly closing the door.


	14. Anger and Fathers

_This is the last chapter __until__ Monday the 27__th__. I think I'll be able to write ahead, but we'll see. Also, I have a surprise for you; that's all I'm sayin'. ;) _

_Adore you guys! See you the 27__th__!_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Anger and Fathers_

Eponine woke to the sound of banging plates and muffled whispers. Well, technically she woke up because of the extremely loud thunder and sudden clatter of raindrops, but the banging plates didn't help either. She felt herself roll out of bed and (sleep) walk into the kitchen. Enjolras stood in all his morning-glory, muttering to himself, hardly realizing his half-dressed state and unkempt hair.

She rolled her eyes. _God! He does that on purpose!_

"Good morning, sunshine," she grumbled, bumping into him on purpose. He glared at her and she took a step back. "Not even a kiss?" she pouted.

She really had no reason to be so rude, but the night before he had made her feel so vulnerable and scared, he kind of deserved it. Enjolras obviously wasn't in the mood, but she didn't care. He got what he got, and he had to live with it. The rain would certainly keep them inside, _again_, and the tension would be unbearable. Eponine couldn't wait to piss him off. She smirked to herself and grabbed the bread in her hand before scampering off back into her room to read.

* * *

Jehan and Cosette still kept with their plans, despite the rain. They found a man willing to drive them to the workhouses free of charge; he was a great admirer of Cosette's father. When they arrived at the doors, Cosette pulled the chain around her neck, holding the key to her father's office. She pushed the backdoor open, and skirted inside, reaching for Jehan's hand to pull him along.

They were in between fits of laughters, and too-loud hushes, and maybe a stolen kiss or two, when _Monsieur _Fauchelevent rounded the corner. He stared at his daughter, currently giggling and holding her mouth, while the man with the red hair peered through the window down below to see the workers. Part of him wanted to push the boy through the window to his death, the other part wanted to wait and see what would happen.

He chose none of the above options, and instead, cleared his throat awkwardly. Cosette turned around quickly, her face in the beginnings of a blush. Valjean smiled to himself and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Cosette," he nodded to her, and she smiled cautiously in return. "Who is this?"

Cosette turned to Jehan and swallowed. "Papa, when did you get there?" she laughed, and then said, "This is Jehan, my.. friend."

Valjean nodded. "I remember you."

Jehan rolled his lips and then took a step forward, holding out his shaking hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, _Monsieur_-"

"Fauchelevent."

Jehan took a breath. "_Monsieur _Fauchelevent. Cosette talks of you often; good things, of course."

Valjean smirked, and glanced at his daughter. "I'm glad."

"Papa, we were wondering if we could wait out the storm in the attic. There's many lovely books and such up there; Jehan loves books, and I think he would-"

"I suppose so," he interrupted, nodding. He really didn't see the harm. His trust with Cosette had slowly mended, though she would ask many questions about her mother often, which he would dodge easily. The boy was only Cosette's.. friend. Why would he have any reason to believe other wise? Maybe it was the way the boy was looking at Cosette like she was the sun and the moon and the stars and the grass in the ground and the birds in the trees. Valjean had seen that look before, but he swallowed his fears, and decided to let her go do as she pleased.

"What?"

"I said you could go. Once the storm is over, though, I expect him to be gone. I want to spend an evening with you, too, Cosette." His eyes twinkled. "You've been gone every night this week."

Cosette felt her heart falter. She would miss the meeting.. But in order to keep her father at bay, she would have to comply. "Alright." She smiled brightly and motioned for Jehan to follow her up some nearby stairs. "Thank you, Papa!"

"Yes, thank you, _monsieur. _It was a pleasure meeting you!"

Valjean tipped his fingers at the boy. "Yes, I'm sure," he mumbled to himself after they disappeared. "I'm sure."

* * *

Eponine sat in her reading chair, facing the still-brooding Enjolras. He had been working on his speech the whole morning, and probably worn a dent into the floor because of his pacing. She bit her nail and turned back to her book. Finally, she heard it; he had snapped.

"_Arghh!_" He picked up the nearest object- an antique vase- and threw it against the wall. Eponine jumped in her chair, shocked. "Eponine, leave the room, please!" he bellowed, not turning around from his mess. Even more shocked, Eponine sat still with an open mouth. In truth, she had realized his frustrations early on and decided to let him be; no more annoying Enjolras. She'd rather watch him work anyway.

"What? Enjolras, I-"

He pointed to her room and whirled around, eyes ablaze. She felt her heart stop. The last time she had seen that look, it had been coming from Montparnasse, the night he had first _raped _her. The air stilled in her throat. "_Eponine, go! Out of my sight! Now!_"

Eponine couldn't move fast enough. The walls were closing in and the floor was slipping underneath her feet. When he took a step toward her, she felt a shriek leave her throat, a pitiful plea. She nearly threw herself into her room and shuck the door behind her, wedging a chair beneath the doorknob. Outside, thunder cracked, causing her to yelp again.

Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before.

Enjolras had looked like he could, and would, wring her neck. He wouldn't hurt her, would she? Still, Eponine had been so scared she felt tears dampen her cheeks. And soon she was weeping on her bed, curled into a tight ball. The reasons for her tears were ones she could not place. She'd been so startled, like a deer in the woods, by his outburst. And he had told her to get out of his sight. Why? What had she done? She was only sitting in her chair!

On the other side of the door, Enjolras was kicking himself. He'd been so frustrated, and angry the speech wasn't going as planned, that'd he'd taken it out on Eponine. The way her eyes went wide, and her cheeks sucked in, he could tell she was terrified. And when she shrieked and nearly fell running for her room, Enjolras was already cursing himself. Despite what she wanted people to think, Eponine was not as strong as she looked. Simple things could set her off. Enjolras yelling at her was one of them. He felt so bad and wanted nothing more than to make her feel okay again.

After awhile of hearing her sob on the other side of the door, Enjolras felt like he was under control and it was time she was, too. Carefully, he knocked on the door. And much to his surprise, it opened nearly immediately.

* * *

Cosette shifted just a little closer to Jehan. He looked up from the book and noticed her proximity.

"_Salut,_" he whispered.

"_Salut,_" she returned.

"You smell like daises."

"You smell like the rain."

He laughed and tousled her hair. "You're father is certainly.. intimidating."

Cosette fell back onto the floor beside him with a thud. She rolled her eyes and threw her arms up above over her head in dramatics. "Of course he is! He's my father, silly."

Jehan blushed. He loved it when she called him silly, or darling, or sweet, or Jehan. Really anything she said was pure gold. Quickly, he leaned down over her and gave her a quick kiss. Cosette was smiling when he pulled back. She brushed her hand along his cheek.

"What?" he laughed.

"Nothing."

"No. Tell me."

"It's just.." She sat up. "I really do like you, Jehan."

He gulped, sure it was audible. "You do.."

She nodded. "Yes. I think we've been over this before, dear." she giggled and moved into his arms. On instinct, he wrapped her up and pulled her closer. A kiss was planted on her forehead, her cheek; she returned to gesture to his jaw and his nose. "You really do smell like rain," she whispered, moving to his lips.

He laughed and held her tighter. "You really do smell like you rolled in a pile of flowers."

Cosette grinned up at him. "I'm glad then, because if I smelled atrocious, I don't think you would like to hold me like this very much."

"Darling, if you smell like a dung pile, or like a thousand sprays of perfume, I wouldn't care. I would hold you like this any time, any place, because you are special and deserve to be held as such." Cosette looked away, blushing, but Jehan moved her chin so she was looking back at him. "I mean it."

"I know you do," she breathed. "Which is why it makes my heart goo."

Laughing once more, Cosette silenced him with a heated kiss. "Hush," she whispered after pulling back for air. "Just kiss me and kiss me and kiss me."

Jehan smiled softly. "Whatever you want is yours, _mademoiselle._"

* * *

As the door opened, Enjolras braced himself to be met with a slap or a pillow to the face. He was pleasantly surprised when Eponine suddenly clung to him, crying even harder. Awkwardly, he patted her back. When her crying did not become any less violent, Enjolras turned to "drastic measures." As he had once seen Courfeyrac do to his crying mistress on a rally day, Enjolras guided Eponine over to her bed and he sat down. He then proceeded to pull her full onto his lap, all the while rocking, shushing her, and running a hand through her hair.

After a while, she calmed down to where she could stop their rocking and look him square in the face. It was then when he received a stinging slap.

"Damn it, Eponine!"

She smiled faintly. "I'm sorry, but you deserved it."

He smiled at their intwined legs. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Eponine sniffed. "I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, I shouldn't have." She looked away. "Ep, look at me." She did. "I will _never _do to you what your father or Montparnasty did to you." She laughed loudly at his nickname; he couldn't help but crack a smile, too.

"You really had be frightened."

"I know.."

"But, I forgive you. I guess."

"I'm honored." He rolled his eyes. Eponine pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Would you like help with your speech, Enjolras?"

Sighing, he nodded and rubbed her back before helping them stand up. "Yes, thank you." He kissed her forehead and then held her face in his hands, brushing her cheekbones with his thumbs. "You have to believe me, Eponine. I will never hurt you, nor will I leave you alone. You deserve the world on a silver platter and I intend on making you see that."

Eponine sighed. "Thank you, _monsieur. _But please! Focus on your revolution, not a silly ole' girl like me."


	15. Plans

_Back from le plage, and I still don't have a tan. :( It rained some, but we saw Star Trek and I ate a butt load of seafood. I wrote ahead like.. three/four chapters because I had so much time on my hands. Yippee? _

_Anyway, I missed you all so much! And I feel so out of the loop on __**everything**__; I have like ten updates to read. School ends in six days. Updates with be plentiful this week! :D_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E; M/C (one-sided)_

_Plans_

For the first time in two weeks Cosette was attending another revolutionary meeting. Her father had kept her from going out as often as she had before. At first, Cosette was very frank about it, telling her father how angry she was that he wouldn't let her go and visit Jehan, _anyone _really_. _But Valjean had a right good reason not to allow her to go visit the young "rake." Cosette still found herself embarrassed every time she thought of the memory and of her father's aghast and disappointed face. Somewhere deep in her heart, though, Cosette was very thankful her father had come up to check in on the two when he did.

_The rain had certainly lessened from when Jehan and Cosette had arrived at the factory. Valjean hadn't heard a peep out of them; usually, he would have been able to tell if boxes or books were moved around up in the attic. But no such sounds floated down into his office. A little part of Valjean was nervous Cosette was doing something she should not, but he trusted her- to an extent. Sighing and pushing back quickly from his desk, Valjean left his office and rounded the corner, taking the stairs hidden up on the left. He stopped at the closed door, but still heard nothing. Maybe they had fallen asleep? The rain would certainly lull even the loudest of babes to a content rest. If Valjean opened the door, and the two were asleep, he would not mind one bit. But if he opened the door and found something else, he didn't exactly know what he would do. _

_Slowly, he opened the door and stepped his massive body through the little opening. His heart clenched, an iron fist closing around it. His blood began to boil and his cheeks heated up in both anger and embarrassment. Cosette sat, intertwined in Jehan's arms, nearly sitting atop his lap. The two were kissing rather hurriedly, passion filled and unashamed. Valjean fought the urge to lunge forward and twist Jehan's head right off his tall body. Taking a deep breath, surprised they hadn't heard the door open, Valjean said slowly, "Cosette." _

_The two parted their lips and Cosette winced; a deep red was quickly crawling up Jehan's neck. Jehan whispered something Valjean couldn't catch, and Cosette untangled herself, standing up, obviously now ashamed. Valjean was pleased to find the pair didn't even try to justify their actions or predicament. They just stood together, beet faced, and breathing heavily. Valjean nodded toward the door, and Cosette moved to follow her father, but he held up a hand. _

"_The boy." _

_Jehan ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his now dry overcoat and hat. Gently, he squeezed Cosette's hand, whispered something else, and rushed out the door, nodding awkwardly at Valjean, who stared straight through the red-headed fool. When they heard the factory door slam, Cosette flinched and opened her mouth. Valjean shook his head._

"_I don't want to talk about it, daughter. Collect your things; we're going home."_

The pained and disappointed tone of Cosette's father's voice made her actions all the worse, but she didn't regret them at the time, and she didn't still. What was done, was done, and Cosette was content with herself. She _liked _Jehan, his company, his friendliness, his voice, his kisses...

He hadn't yet arrived at the meeting, but Cosette was hoping he would soon. They hadn't seen each other properly since the day in the attic. Valjean had made it very clear Cosette was no longer permitted to see the boy. Once or twice Jehan had stopped by the convent, "delivering" something for his cousin the cook's apprentice. Cosette had been able to meet him in the kitchen for a few fleeting moments mostly spent catching up on the revolution and general outside world.

So, while Cosette waited for Jehan to arrive, she struck up a conversation with Combeferre about everything she had missed. It wasn't much really; just more planning, and speeches, but there would be another rally sometime soon. Cosette couldn't wait to be a part of it.

On the other side of the room, Marius relished in the fact that Jehan was not present, and would not be. He was out of town for the weekend, visiting his sick grandmother. Apparently, he had failed to tell Cosette, because she kept looking over at the door. Finally, Marius mustered up enough courage to slide out of his chair and head over tothe table at which she sat. He sat down beside Combeferre and nodded to the man; Cosette finished her sentence and smiled sweetly at Marius. The latter felt his heart freeze.

"Good evening," she said. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Cosette."

Marius swallowed, and Combeferre leaned back, choosing not to tell Marius of Cosette's heavy involvement with Jehan. The law student was oblivious- like Enjolras- to all women. He had been present when Cosette came with Jehan for the first time, and Combeferre had heard Eponine tell Marius of Cosette's outings with Jehan, but he refused to let it sink in or deter him. Combeferre wondered how Cosette would handle the situation, because Marius looked like a man on a mission. Combeferre wouldn't be surprised in the least if the man spat out a marriage proposal.

"I am Marius. Marius Pontmercy."

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you. Jehan often speaks of you." Of course, it was lie. But Cosette had once been told by her father to make people feel comfortable.

Marius raised an eyebrow. "Does he?"

"Certainly. He speaks about all of _Les Amis_." Marius nodded, rather tongue tied and stupid, and Cosette sighed, turning to Combeferre. "Do you know where Jehan is?"

Combeferre shrugged and pushed his glasses up. "I think he may have mentioned-"

"His grandmother is sick," Marius cut in; Cosette looked at him with alarmed eyes. "Extremely sick. He went to visit her in Toulouse."

Cosette clutched a hand to her chest. Marius couldn't help but glance at the movement. "Gracious," she breathed. "I certainly hope she gets better!"

"I'm sure she will be soon, _mademoiselle._" Combeferre patted her hand reassuringly. "Until then, you can focus on the revolution. It does wonders for taking up the entirety of your life." Cosette laughed, and held her friend's hand. Marius wished it was his own.

In the middle of the room, Enjolras tore himself away from the maps finally, and he glanced at Eponine, who was speaking with Feuilly. Clearing his throat, she looked up and met his eyes, giving him a questioning stare. He cocked his head toward the back door and she nodded, making her excuses to the fan-painter. Leaving through the front door of the café, Eponine waited for Enjolras around the back. Enjolras then left through the back door. The only one who noted the exchange was Grantaire, who merely scoffed, wondering how no one else saw what was going on between the two. For God's sake, Combeferre and Courfeyrac had visited Enjolras' flat, where Eponine now _lived. _They may not question Enjolras' actions, but Grantaire certainly did, because after all, he was the cynic.

* * *

Outside, Eponine picked underneath her nails. Enjolras soon came up to her side, hands on his hips. Eponine raised her eyebrows, turning to face him fully. The night air was certainly chilly, and Eponine was not looking forward to walking home. Paris was ruthless at night, but Enjolras was hardly ever worried, too busy with his own thoughts to think about the ruffians that could jump them at any moment. Eponine would know, too, if anyone would; she had been one at one point, after all.

"What is it," she asked gently. The past two weeks with Enjolras had been rough. Though Enjolras had not exploded at her again, they had argued many times about the revolution and Eponine was still wary around him. While Eponine and Enjolras did share the same views, they disagreed on some aspects. Gone was their wordy banter, gone were their morning kisses; they were replaced with eye-rolls and heated arguments that ended with someone getting offended. Eponine still wouldn't trade Enjolras for the world; the same applied with him.

"The rally. Courfeyrac and I were going over the strategies and roads. It could be very dangerous." Enjolras looked off town the alley; Eponine stared at his worried, tired eyes. He needed rest.

"Why does this worry you?"

"Danger at one of these events always worries me. Someone could get hurt, arrested, _killed _no less. I'm not sure if we should go through with it; if you or Cosette should go through with it."

Eponine frowned and crossed her arms. "Excuse me?"

Enjolras glared at her. "You heard me."

"I am going to this rally. I missed the last one!"

Enjolras sighed. "We'll be too closed to the Crown. Someone is bound to be arrested," Enjolras grabbed her upper arm. "I don't want it to be you.. or Cosette," he added, dropping her arm.

Eponine shook her head. "You can't just exclude us because we're women! Enjolras, this is where we differ the most. You say you want equality for all, but that all doesn't include women, does it?"

"Eponine-"

"Does it!"

Enjolras sighed. "I won't deny what you say. I do think women can do as much as men, but they are the fairer sex. This rally has the potential to be explosive, in good ways and bad."

"Stop about the rally, Enjolras, and talk to me here! Do you think the two of us will get in the way? Be too much of a burden?"

Enjolras put his hands back on his hips and turned slightly. Eponine stepped up to him and put her hands on his waist, commanding for him to look at her. "Maybe," he whispered.

Eponine shook her head. "I know we can help!"

Enjolras stepped back. "I know you can, too, but I won't be able to live with myself if any of you get hurt. Please. You have to understand that I believe in your capabilities, too."

"So, what are you saying here?"

"I need room to think on it still. Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and I are staying after to talk on it; you'll go home. Whatever we decide is in your best interest."

Eponine sighed and felt anger flare up in her. Enjolras was only looking out for her. Any other woman would swoon at the thought. Eponine wasn't just "any other woman" though. She would go to the rally, as would Cosette, no matter what the Golden Trio decided.

* * *

_Shorter, yes, I know. But I think this ended in the right spot. Tell me how you're feelin', kiddos!_

_Love, Jess_


	16. The Golden Trio

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.. still.**_

_Pairings: E/E; J/C_

* * *

_The Golden Trio_

Many of _Les Amis _lovingly called Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac "The Golden Trio." They were the instigators of the lads, and they never did something without consulting one of the other trio members first. So, when Enjolras bade everyone a good night and the other two stayed behind, "cleaning up," no one was surprised or jilted. They'd grown used to the hushed conversations, and sometimes, the heated arguments. It was just another normal night.

When the door finally closed behind Bossuet, Enjolras clasped his hands together, ready to get down to business. Eponine's words still echoed in his mind.

"_We can help!" _

"_I'm going to that rally!" _

Whatever they chose to go through with, was in their best interest. It was only to keep them safe. Many other groups would be in attendance; Enjolras knew the main protestor, Maxwell Armond, would be killed on the spot if he could be caught. The National Guard had been hunting him and his men down for years, but the group was so good at staying out of the light and out of the public's gossip that most Guards didn't even know what Maxwell looked liked. Enjolras was eager to go and see Armond's work in action. He had always admired his talks, and some of his own were modeled after his. If Eponine and Cosette went along with _Les Amis_, something bad was destined to happen. Enjolras couldn't allow that.

"So," Courfeyrac reached for an unopened bottle. "What was so important that we had to stay after?"

"The rally scheduled for this Thursday promises to be a good one." Enjolras sat down at the empty table, glancing out the door. He thought he saw a quick flash of brown, but it must have been his imagination.

Combeferre nodded, grinning. "I'm extremely excited."

Enjolras held up his hands. "As am I, _mon ami. _But my reason for asking you to stay after remains unspoken. You well know that we have branched out and included Eponine and Cosette officially. I am grateful for their addition, and their zeal, but I think their attendance at this rally would be most unwise."

Courfeyrac sat his bottle down on the table methodically. He sighed. "I must agree. From what I've heard, Maxwell and his men are quite rambunctious. I don't want to see them get hurt."

"I disagreed with the two of you," Combeferre said quietly. Enjolras frowned slightly. Usually it was Courfeyrac who disagreed, never Combeferre.

"How so?"

"I think they would add a certain air to the men. No doubt these men haven't seen women for some time, and even now, I see how we've begun to calm down with Cosette being here. We get things done faster, and fewer fights ensue. I feel as if Eponine and Cosette coming to the rally would help settle the men down. They might not all see them, but the ones around certainly would."

Enjolras shook his head. "That is a far stretch, 'Ferre."

"I know, but we would be there to protect them."

Enjolras scoffed and ran a hand over his face. _Eponine doesn't need protecting. _"Maybe. I have this niggling feeling though."

Courf smiled. "You always feel that way. As for Book-worm's opinion, I see his point, but I still think they shouldn't come."

"Cosette will be hurt if we do not allow her to join us."

"So will Eponine," Enjolras added quietly. "But that is beside the point. There will be other rallies; safer ones, maybe." Courfeyrac nodded and Combeferre sighed. "Have we come to a decision then?"

Courfeyrac nodded again. "Yes. They won't come along. _This _time."

Combeferre sighed and stood up, shaking his head. "I don't like it, Enjolras. We need to include them, too. Just because they're women doesn't mean they can't fight."

Enjolras clasped his dearest friend's shoulder. "I know and understand that, Combeferre. This is for their safety. I trust you can tell Cosette; it would be better coming from you, since Jehan is not here."

Combeferre nodded and chuckled sadly. "Good luck with Eponine."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and tugged on his coat. "_Merci_," he grunted. "It'll be one hell of a fight she puts up tonight."

Courfeyrac laughed loudly, and Combeferre couldn't help but chuckle along, feeling his mood lighten. Enjolras felt his face heat up, and he bade them a quick goodnight, ready to return home and sleep his worries away. But not until he nearly broke Eponine's poor heart.

* * *

He opened the door slowly, and closed it equally as so. Trying to prolong his news would not damper Eponine's feelings. Turning around, Enjolras shrugged off his red jacket and ran a hand through his hair. He knew she sat on the couch, waiting for him, like she always did. Enjolras cleared his throat and reached for the tea she had waiting on the table. Enjolras felt his heart stutter; she was already pissed off.

"Eponine?"

From the couch he heard a quiet, "Hm?"

"We made a decision."

"I know. I didn't expect you to be back this early.."

"It was agreed upon quickly." Enjolras took a sip and shrunk back. The tip of his tongue burnt and red, he set the mug back on the table, pushing it away. Eponine scoffed and slid off the couch. She pulled the blanket around her tighter. A cold draft drifted through the open window, and Enjolras sighed, crossing to shut it forcefully.

Eponine, with her back still to him, then said, "What did you agree upon then?"

Enjolras bit his tongue. "You and Cosette.. won't be able to join us.. _this _time." He expected her to either attack, or leave the flat for the night. Instead, he heard a defeated sigh, which hurt all the more. He reminded himself once more that this was for her safety.

"Fine," she whispered, pulling off the blankets. Enjolras looked away; she was only wearing her thin shift, and in the moonlight, one could nearly see through the flimsy fabric. "I understand. G'night."

Enjolras nodded and scratched his eyebrow. "Thank you, Eponine. Goodnight."

She headed for her door and rested one hand on the door-jam, thinking. Enjolras was already at the kitchen table, desperately searching for some adequate food. Eponine turned slowly and walked up behind him, far enough so they could have a conversation, but close enough so Eponine didn't have to raise her voice above a low scratch. When Enjolras turned around, surprised to see her there, he stumbled back a step and she wrinkled her nose. Enjolras, with wide eyes, waited.

"I'm angry," Eponine whispered; she wanted to laugh when she saw him draw in a deep breath, but the movement on his chest was distracting and it affected her in strange ways she didn't really understand.

"I figured that you would be." Enjolras reached around her for a knife. His wrist brushed across her bare arm.

"I want to go to that rally."

"I know."

Eponine stepped forward. She really wanted to sock him right in the jaw. He was being so unreasonable! Cosette and she could do things just as well at the others! Why was he so stubborn and full of himself all the time? Why did he make her feel the way she did?

Enjolras raised a calculating eyebrow at the movement. He was convinced she would slap him anytime soon; it just depended on when she worked up the courage. Enjolras set his plate and knife down, hoping to be able to gauge her efforts, so he could reach out and grab her wrist before she gave him another stinging slap. When she took another step forward, he lifted his hand, and nearly squeezed his eyes shut, the feeling of her lips on his own and her hands scrambling to undo his shirt ties came as quite a surprise. Enjolras was fairly certain he shrieked in her mouth.

Enjolras, like Eponine, wasn't sure what their relationship entailed, or even was. He adored her; he wanted, _needed_, her as his own. Never before in his life had he felt the way he had for another human. They hadn't ever been physical with one another, they hadn't wanted to, or needed to. Sure, they'd slept side by side for a few nights, until their arguments began. And maybe they found each other during the day, across the room, and they kissed once and awhile. But never had Enjolras made the move to _sleep _with her. In university, he'd been with women before, merely experimental.

But if he was to go through with this, with Eponine, it would not be experimental. That he knew for certain.

When Eponine's lips left his and they moved to his neck, and her hand moved to the band on his pants, Enjolras nearly pushed her away too roughly. "What the hell?" he rasped, confused out of his skull. If she was angry, what the heck was she doing trying to bed him? Enjolras could feel his heart beating fast. It was odd; he felt.. alive. He felt different from how he did when he was with his friends. With Eponine, he felt like bolts of lightening, excited, yet coursed. With his friends, he felt like a cold statue, ordering, silently caring.

Eponine ground her hands into the sides of her slip. She took another step forward and moved to grip his hip bones. "I am so angry," she whispered again. Enjolras nodded.

"I've gathered that! But what are you trying to do here?"

She pressed another messy kiss to his lips. "I don't know. But I'm _seething _and I don't really want to yell at you right now. I need to do something with my anger other than yelling or punching; this seems like the next best thing."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "And you're sure about this?" She nodded quickly, reaching for his arms, desperate. "I'm not sure if I am." This stopped her movements.

"Things can still be the same, Enj," she whispered softly. He rolled his eyes.

"I know that," he whispered harshly. Why did everyone insist on treating him like a child? He knew how these things worked.

"Then please." She kissed him. "Just.. help me get over my anger?"

Enjolras looked at Eponine in the moonlight. Her eyes were brimming with angry and sad tears. Her hands roamed up and down his arms over and over, as if she were trying to warm him, though it was she that was cold. Enjolras sighed. He wanted this, she knew he did. She could feel it, in more ways than one.

Enjolras could feel tears building up in his own eyes as he nodded. Why was he so sad? Why did this hurt him so much? Was it because she didn't take it as seriously as he did? This was a big decision for Enjolras. Eponine was one of his dearest friends, his roommate, his.. soon-to-be lover. This would change everything. And it meant nothing to her.

Eponine gave him a bright smile, and his heart swam with emotions. Hurriedly, she pulled him back for another kiss, and the two backed up.

They didn't even make it to the couch.

* * *

Jehan's grandmother, being the feisty woman she was, recovered quickly from her fight with influenza. He was able to return to Paris, and to Cosette, before the rally on Friday. Walking into the café Thursday evening, tired and hungry, Jehan smiled for the first time in days when he saw a familiar face: Joly. The medicinal student, who was more training to be a patient, stood up quickly, and gave his friend a quick hug, before leading him back into the back room.

Joly had been waiting for Jehan when he received word that his friend would be back in town and at the meeting. Enjolras had not yet arrived, neither had Combeferre. Things were still waiting to begin. Both men caught up with the each other while they waited, though, Jehan constantly looked toward the door, waiting for Cosette to walk through.

Courfeyrac came over to make his greetings then, patting Jehan on the back before taking a seat. "I know you're looking for Cosette, but I'm not sure if she'll be here tonight," he said.

Jehan raised an eyebrow, worried that something was wrong, and irritated that he couldn't apologize for not telling her he had to leave so quickly. "Is something the matter?"

Courfeyrac smiled. "No, though she was upset last night."

"Upset? Last night?" Jehan looked between Joly and Courfeyrac. What had gone on in the few days he had missed? "Is she in good health? What happened?"

Courfeyrac laughed and held up his hands reassuringly. "Nothing is wrong with Cosette, _mon ami. _Because of the rally on Friday, Enjolras, Combeferre, and I thought it best that Cosette and Eponine not be in attendance. It looks to be too dangerous, and we don't want them getting hurt. Combeferre told Cosette last night, and she took the news rather roughly. She was deeply offended, but I think she understood."

Jehan breathed a sigh of relief. His Cosette was okay. His friends had kept an eye on her, and she was okay; they were looking out for her future, too. It was all okay. "Thank you," he whispered, nodding. "You had me worried."

Joly scoffed and stuffed his pipe before lighting it. "That's for sure."

The backdoor slammed open and Enjolras, drenched in rain, stepped it. "Joly, put that out!" he bellowed. Joly jumped in his seat, and snuffed out his pipe, blushing. Enjolras bounded up onto the little dais and cleared his throat, shrugging off his jacket. The night before, Enjolras was acting out of character. He was.. jumpy, itching to get home maybe. Grantaire figured he knew why, but he refused to say anything to anyone else about his suspicions. This was the Enjolras he missed, though.

"Now," he began. "Tomorrow is a big day!" The men cheered, and Combeferre slipped in the front door, taking a seat beside Feuilly. "We have much work to do tonight, and I suggest we get on it. I, for one, know that much rest is needed. I won't keep anyone here longer than they need to be. I want us all to remember to stay safe tomorrow. If things turn awful, one of us," he motioned to The Golden Trio. "Will perform the signal and we split up. Meet back here later on the evening, like usual. Enough of me, though, get to work!" He smiled and hopped down, going over to greet Jehan.

In the back of the room, the very back, the dark little corner filled with spiderwebs and one broom, sat two young women. If was their first time to speak in ages, but all bad feelings aside, they had a plan. They were going to that rally, and no one could stop them.


	17. Outside the Crown

_I just finished ' The Time Traveler's Wife' about ten minutes ago. I can't stop sobbing. I highly, __**highly **__recommend this book. Take that to heart, because I don't usually recommend books. _

_**Trigger Warning: Mentions of Rape**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Outside the Crown_

Dawn broke through the small window in Enjolras' bedroom. He stretched like a cat, arms over his head, a deep sound in his throat. Beside him, Eponine stirred, but did not wake. Just as well. He had to get up, get ready, leave. The rally was planned for later on that afternoon and Enjolras was eager to leave and get a head-start on the day. But it was only dawn; it was too early.

He glanced at Eponine and narrowed his eyes. Maybe just a few more moments.

Gently, he shook her shoulder and she groaned, rolling over, her eyes cracking open. "Enjolras?" she mumbled, voice sleepy. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head and kissed her quickly, quietly. Eponine resisted at first; she was sore all over, but she didn't mind. Then, like always, she opened up and smiled into his now hungry kisses. Enjolras didn't know it, but he was a fantastic lover. Eponine thought herself lucky, though she was partly confused. For a man who had been with so few women, his bedroom habits could break the resolve of a nun in mere seconds. The thought made Eponine giggle, and Enjolras drew back, confused. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just.. thinking." She ran a hand through his hair. It was Friday, rally day. When he left, she would wait for an hour or so, just long enough for him to get settled in with _Les Amis _for the afternoon. Then, she would leave, too, and head for the convent, where she would meet Cosette. From there, they planned on hitching a ride with Francis, a "cousin" of Cosette's, to the rally. Hopefully, they would be able to stay out of sight and sound. Eponine hoped to get there and get home without Enjolras ever knowing.

Sighing, Enjolras propped himself up on one elbow, slightly above Eponine. "About what?"

She shook her head, and brought his face down to hers. "Nothing. Just forget about it."

He obliged.

* * *

Cosette had never blatantly disregarded Jehan's wishes before. When he had returned the night before, they had spoken briefly. Cosette had really wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she held firm. She, like Eponine, was angry. Jehan, in the few moments they had spoken, had expressed how he agreed with Enjolras and Courfeyrac, about the girls not going. Cosette had been slightly hurt and a little relieved by this. Jehan cared, like the rest, which comforted her; but he didn't want her help in this, that hurt. Still, Cosette and Eponine, putting all past feelings aside, had made a pact to go to the rally, no matter what.

In the wee hours of Friday morning, Cosette sat in her bed, curled up, already dressed and ready. She was excited, teeming with happiness and light. This would be a day to remember. She wished she and Jehan could share it together, but for sure another time.

Another time.

* * *

When time came for Enjolras to leave, he fell out of bed slowly. Enjolras' mind was a pile of fuzz. Eponine was back asleep, and Enjolras didn't blame her. He donned his famous red jacket, and tried his best to make it look like his hair hadn't been pulled or tugged. When he failed miserably, he dunked his head in some water and shook out the droplets. It would air dry to perfection, like always.

Food was a necessity nearly forgot. At the last moment, he turned around from the front door and grabbed an apple and some bread. Maps in arm, plans on paper and in his chest pocket, Enjolras slipped out the door.

He met up with Jehan outside. The two weren't stupid. They knew what Cosette and Eponine were up to. The previous night the women had chatted as old friends; that had never happened before. They knew they would be at the rally, and when they finally showed their beautiful faces in the sea of men, Enjolras and Jehan would be there to berate them and to shelter them. Enjolras wasn't going to stop Eponine. No. There was no stopping her when she got her mind set on something.

Like the time, a week earlier, when they hadn't been on speaking terms. Enjolras had made a low blow during one of their most heated arguments. It had cut Eponine to the core, and she was intent on moving out. She did, for three days. She slept outside of the building. Enjolras had let her, feeling worse and worse each night. But he knew she would come back. And when she did, she came back with a slam of the door and a large huff, tossing a smelly rag at him. She demanded for him to clean it, since, after all, it was his fault she slept outside. Then, they were back on speaking terms. Just like that.

Jehan, too, knew there was no way to deter Cosette. She was as equally as determined as Eponine. Cosette also frightened Jehan, just a little. There was no way in hell he would cross her path and even test getting on her bad side.

In the early morning light, Jehan looked calm and collected. Enjolras regarded his terribly ugly scarf with a smile. Jehan was so soft, so brave.

"_Ca va?_" he asked, stepping off of the last step with a jump. Jehan moved away from the pillar he was leaning on, a little startled. When he realized it was only Enjolras, he calmed.

"_Oui. Ca va. Toi?_" Enjolras only half nodded and waited for Jehan to fall into step. They walked along in contemplative silence. "What are we going to do when we see them?" he finally asked.

Enjolras smirked and took a large bite of his apple. He then shrugged. "Try and pretend we didn't see them."

Jehan frowned. "I thought that-"

Enjolras smiled slightly. Naïve Jehan, quick-to-think Jehan. "Don't worry, _mon ami. _We will get them before the rally is through. Don't alert them to the fact that we knew all along, though."

Jehan nodded. "Of course not."

"Let them have their fun," Enjolras added. Jehan sighed.

"I don't like it. This is dangerous."

"Certainly! We told them not to attend because of that. But they're stubborn, and they're women, so of course they'll come against our wishes. When something goes wrong, we can rub it in their faces."

Jehan shook his head. "When something goes wrong, Enjolras, it will be _us _who have to pay."

Enjolras didn't agree, nor disagree, but instead kept his mouth shut. Jehan was probably right. Still, Enjolras was too prideful and sure of himself to admit it. They rounded the corner and reached the nearly desolate café. Upon entering, they found only the owner, Claire, to be present. She bounced her newest baby on her hip. Jehan smiled sweetly and stroked the child's ruddy cheek; Enjolras stayed behind, stone cold face. Children and he did not mix well. He caught Claire peering at him with confused and searching eyes from around Jehan. He cleared his throat and nodded once, before skirting into the back room.

Inside, he was not surprised to see Grantaire slumped over the nearest chair, an empty bottle in hand. Enjolras groaned to himself and kicked the man's boots, sending him flying up quickly.

"What?! Huh.. Oh. Enjolras." Grantaire rolled his eyes and felt his head his the table once more. Enjolras pursed his lips and sighed.

"Get up," he demanded, kicking Grantaire's boot once more. "We have things to do."

Grantaire leaned backward and held up his pointer finger. "_You. You _have things to do. Not me. You."

"Right. How could I forget?" Enjolras rolled his eyes, his voice full of sarcasm. As he rearranged the tables and went over the plans once more, all while waiting for Jehan to stop fussing over the baby, Grantaire watched Enjolras move around the room in a agonizingly fast pace.

He attempted to get him to stop by asking simple question, which Enjolras would either dodge or answer in short one word sentences. Grantaire was desperate for Enjolras to stop whizzing about; it was giving him a massive headache. Finally, he resorted to something he really was curious about.

"What's up with you and 'Ponine?" he asked, rather loudly.

Enjolras stopped midtrack, frowning. "What.. What do you mean?" Slowly, he turned around to face the smirking Grantaire.

"Just tell me," he groaned. "I won't say a peep!"

Enjolras shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't! Enjolras," Grantaire stood up, wobbling on his feet. "You live with Eponine now. The two of you come to these things together, and leave together. Once or twice, when you thought no one was looking, I've seen you give her a quick kiss here and there. And you argue like hell, that sure means something, too."

Enjolras felt a sweat break out. But he was confused. How could he answer when he himself didn't know the answer either? Besides, what made Grantaire think he had the right to know?

"Nothing is going on. I am simply giving her a place to live for the time being."

"I recall you telling her she could stay with you for a few weeks," Grantaire said. "It's been around two months, Enjolras."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. Had it really been that long? Had they fallen into such a routine life that he- both of them- hadn't even noticed? Breathing deeply, Enjolras shook his head. "I still don't understand what you're trying to insinuate here."

Grantaire frowned deeply, becoming irritated quickly. "You and Eponine have a thing, like Jehan and Cosette." Enjolras shook his head. "No. Don't argue with me here! I can see that you do. Why are you hiding it?"

"I'm not hiding it. No one's asked," Enjolras admitted.

"Well, I'm asking, and you're not answering. How do you feel about Eponine?"

Enjolras felt anger flare up inside of himself. He shook his head and waved at hand at Grantaire, as if shooing him away. The door opened and most of _Les Amis _fell in, excited and nervous. Grantaire stepped forward and lowered his voice.

"You're not off the hook," he said. "We _will _talk about this one day."

Enjolras ignored Grantaire, and looked around the room, pleased with the turn out. He recognized mostly everyone, besides a few tag along faces here and there. As they all settled in, ready to get down to brass tacks, Enjolras couldn't help but think about Eponine waiting at home. Maybe she would change her mind. Enjolras prayed she would.

His thoughts faded away and were quickly replaced with the revolution. His excitement mounted as the day continued. By mid-afternoon, when everyone was present and debriefed on how the day would pan out, _Les Amis _and the few stragglers were on their way for the palace. The rally was supposed to be held outside of the main gates, and sure enough, when they arrived, the gates were teeming with people.

Enjolras had never seen so many people in all his life. Joly held a piece of cloth to his mouth. Quickly, Enjolras turned around and motioned for them all to come together. They put their heads together, trying desperately to hear what Enjolas was saying to them.

"Stay in pairs!" Enjolras yelled over the screaming and whinnying of horses. "If anything goes amiss and we feel the need to leave, listen for three gunshots!"

Feuilly paled. "That's a horrible idea!" he cried. "Someone will get the wrong idea; someone will get hurt, Enjolras!"

Enjolras felt his friend's struggle. There no other way, though. It was too loud, too crowded. The shots would be simple 'pops,' no bullets, just blank shots. No one would get hurt. But more than likely, it would spread rapidly and someone would get hurt. Enjolras prayed every man had the sense to think before they pulled out their guns.

"I know," Enjolras dropped his voice so only Feuilly could hear. "Please. We're trying, Feuilly." Feuilly blushed and nodded, falling back slightly. "Alright! Go!"

Enjolras split up with Jehan and Grantaire, slipping in between people, trying to get to the front. He wanted to hear what was being said, but it was too loud. The National Guard was already on them! Slowly, but surely, they moved toward the center, cutting down who ever was in their way. Enjolras could feel the tidal wave of emotions sweep through him. He was so into everything, so in tune with those around him, that he nearly missed the three gunshots.

They'd only been at the rally less than half an hour and already something was wrong. Enjorlas whirled around, searching for the gun in the air. Luckily, most had not heard it, those who had were crowded around the man who had shot off the gun. Enjolras thanked the Lord thousands of times as he pushed his way back through the swarm of people. He reached the man, finding it to be Courfeyrac. Enjolras didn't need to look at his friend's face twice to know something was terribly, _terribly _wrong.

"What is it?" he yelled. Enjolras turned around to see what everyone was crowding around them for. As his eyes took in the sight before him, Enjolras nearly gagged.

_Dear God, Cosette!_

She was lying on the cobblestone ground, clearly unconscious. Enjolras dropped to his knees and moved to get her head out of the road; he cradled it in his lap. Only then, did he realize the full extent of her attack. Blood poured from between Cosette's legs. Enjolras blushed, from both anger and embarrassment.

Jehan was suddenly there, by his side. Enjolras carefully handed her over to Jehan, who scooped her up into his arms. She moaned and leaned into him, still gone. When his eyes fell on her bloodstained white dress, Enjolras was afraid he might be sick all over her. He placed a calming hand on the man's shoulder.

"Jehan," he whispered. "Jehan?"

Jehan looked up. Enjolras took a step back. He had never seen Jehan so angry, so hateful. "What happened, Enjolras?" he growled.

"I.. I don't know. I wasn't-"

"_What happened, Enjolras?!_"

Enjolras sighed and closed his eyes; he squatted down beside Jehan and nodded. "I think you know."

Tears began to pour down Jehan's cheeks in torrents. Enjolras felt a few of his own slip out. _Les Amis _upon hearing the gunshots, had all crowded around; there were general murmurs of shock and gasps. Mostly anger, though. They were always so angry.

Jehan nodded and took a ragged breath. "Cosette was raped. _My _Cosette was _raped!_"

* * *

_Such a shameless cliffhanger. Couldn't help it! Drop me a note, lovelies! _


	18. Flowers Wilt

_Well, I think that went over pretty well. :D School ends for the summer on Wednesday which means more time to write!_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_**Pairings: **__J/C; E/E_

_Flowers Wilt_

Jehan couldn't breathe properly. The ground beneath him felt like it was disappearing rapidly. The woman he held in his arms was there, but she felt like she was slipping, falling into the ground. Jehan gripped her shoulders tightly, pulling her up against his chest over and over. The men around him were silent, deathly silent. Enjolras turned slowly and cleared his throat. Nearby, a National Guard ran a man through with his sword. The scream fell into the air and hung for a few moments before it fell away for good.

"Combeferre, Joly, take Cosette to the nearest doctor. Jehan, you go with them. As for the rest of you, scatter, like we planned. Meet at the café at midnight; we will discuss things there." Enjolras' tone was firm; he meant business, but he didn't feel it. Cosette had been raped, and Eponine was nowhere to be found. He felt his resolve crumbling.

_Les Amis _did not move, too bent on revenge, too stunned. Enjolras drew in a deep breath and raised one hand, pointing away. "_Now!_" he whispered. The men took a moment, but soon scattered like flies. Enjolras rubbed his forehead and dropped down beside Jehan, rubbing the man's shoulder, uncharacteristically gentle.

"We will find the man who did this, Jehan. I promise."

Jehan broke out of his blank stare, only to pierce his eyes into Enjolras'. "This is _your _fault," he snarled. Enjolras fell back onto his haunches, confused. "None of this would have happened if you just chose to order them not to come!"

Enjolras shook his head. "No. No, Jehan. You don't under-"

"I understand perfectly, Enjolras! You let your selflessness get in the way! You only thought about the outcome of today: how something _would _go wrong. How, at the end of the day, you could rub it in Eponine's face. Well, here, Enjolras; you got your wish. Something went wrong. Cosette was raped. _Take it and shove it in your little whore's face!_ _Because I sure as hell am not!_"

Enjolras frowned and moved to lunge for Jehan, but Combeferre grabbed his shoulders before he could move and pulled him back. "Let it go. Let it go," he whispered. Enjolras fell back against the base of a small fountain, livid. Eponine was _not _his whore! Enjolras desperately tried to remind himself that Jehan was just acting under the influence of his emotions; he didn't mean any of it.

Finding his voice, Enjolras spat, "Go. Hurry."

Combeferre nodded and patted his friend's shoulder, muttering something Enjolras couldn't quite catch. Then, he stooped down and lifted Cosette into his arms. The woman winced in her unconscious state and her head lolled back. Joly moved to help Jehan up from his position on the ground, but the poet turned away harshly, standing up on his own, albeit shakily. Enjolras watched from the ground as the trio hurried off, trying not to get caught in the quickly lessening crowd. When they were out of sight, Enjolras pulled himself up.

He looked over his shoulder, attempting to look for Eponine, though it was a half-hearted attempt to look. She would turn up, eventually. As he headed off for a nearby alley which would take him toward the café, Enjolras ran full force into Eponine, who was standing, as if waiting, on the corner of the alley. She had a somber look on her face, her hands behind her back, leaning against the brick wall. Enjolras looked her over once, and then headed down the alley, knowing she would follow.

They walked along quietly for a few moments before she spoke up: "I saw it all."

Enjolras sighed. "All of what," he snapped.

"I saw the tail end of the.. deed. I got a so-so look of the man who did it, too."

The piece of information should have brightened Enjolras just a little, but it only made Enjolras more angry, more depressed. "Why didn't you try and stop him?"

Eponine scoffed, offended. "Enjolras! I was clear on the other side of the rally; they were in a closed off corner. There was no possible way I could get over there before it was done!"

"You could have tried," he whispered, turning the corner sharply.

Eponine reached out and grabbed his elbow, pulling him back. Her brow was knit into a tight scowl. "Don't think I didn't," she growled.

Enjolras wrenched his arm free, and stood, staring at her. "I told you not to come."

Eponine closed her eyes briefly, as if in pain. "I know. It was a mistake. We.. we shouldn't have gone."

"Obviously, you should have listened to me in the first place! This wouldn't have happened if you would have stepped off your high-horse and... and.." Enjolras found his voice raising as he spoke, but halfway through, he realized how much his words mirrored Jehan's.

_Take it and shove it in your little whore's face!_

Enjolras closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Eponine swallowed her anger, knowing how stressed and hurt and angry Enjolras was. It took much self-control for her to do so, but she cared about Enjolras; he hadn't meant what he'd said.

When Enjolras opened his eyes, he sighed heavily. "Jehan said that you were my little whore." The revolutionary figured it was best to get it out in the open before anyone else told Eponine what Jehan had said. It would come back toward her twisted and wrong, and they wouldn't have the full explanation. Enjolras knew it would hurt Eponine deeply, but she had to know. He wanted to tell her; partially so he could comfort her, partially so she could trust him again.

The pain that flashed unmasked across Eponine's face cut Enjolras to the core. He had never seen her look so hurt, so... broken. Immediately, he held out his hand for her to take, but she only stared at it. It fell back against Enjolras' side, defeated.

Eponine felt shame wash over her. Jehan was one of her closest friends; why would he say such a thing? She knew he was wrong, though. Both Eponine and Enjolras had mutual feelings for each other. In no way was Eponine Enjolras' whore; she knew that for a fact.

Still, the words hurt.

Eponine cleared her throat and brushed away the few stray tears that made their way onto her cheeks. Enjolras took a step forward and held her shoulders.

"You know it's not true," he said. She nodded. "Good. I'm sorry about the things I said..."

She shrugged. "You were angry."

He nodded and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I'll get this solved out." Eponine didn't answer. "Let's go. They're waiting for me."

* * *

Combeferre only followed half of Enjolras' instructions. He _would not _take Cosette to the nearest doctor. The nearest doctor happened to be within the square the rally was being held in, and he was greedy, and hardly knew what he was talking about. He had been the man that let Combeferre's youngest sister die. The doctor Combeferre was set on lived at least three miles away, atop a boarding school, where he did his work in the large attic space.

Carrying Cosette seemed to be a problem. She still had not regained consciousness, but with every jostle and bump, more blood seeped from her legs and her face grew ever more pale. The student stopped and turned toward Joly.

"Do you think you can find a cart? Something to set her in?" he asked.

Joly whirled on his heel, standing on his toes. Across the road, which was less crowded than the rally square, but still full of people, there rest an abandoned cart, several rags and blankets resting inside of it. The man who owned it, stood beside, buying produce. Joly never would have stolen the cart on any normal day, but as the man walked away to browse another stand, Joly found himself darting forward and pushing the cart away as quickly as possible. By the time Joly was back across the street and Combeferre had placed Cosette carefully inside of the cart, wrapped in several of the blankets, the man had noticed and was screaming wildly for the thieves to stop. They didn't listen and sped up to finish the rest of the three miles.

Jehan, this whole time, had been of no help whatsoever. He walked, jogged, ran along side of the medical students, but hardly ever said a word unless it was, "Don't hold her like that," or, "Be careful." His friends did their best to understand, though; his world must be shaken terribly.

Finally, after an hour or so of walking, the trio made it to the boarding school. Combeferre and Joly were very close with the doctor, Ansell Thore; he had been an assistant to one of their professors. Ansell was older in age, but made himself useful running his own practice and helping out at the university whenever he could. He was renowned for using brilliant combinations of natural substances to come up with quick tonics and the like.

Combeferre knocked on _Madame _Renald's door. When she opened it, a young girl no more than six hanging onto her leg, she took one look at Cosette and one look at Combeferre and shooed the young girl away, stepping out onto the front porch.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

Joly sighed. "I think you know, _madame._" His feet ached and he was itching to take off his shoes and soak them. _Madame_ playing coy did not help his quickly worsening mood.

"Ansell is here, but I don't want you taking her up through the main stairs. All that blood... She'll cause quite a fright." _Madame _shook her head and clucked her tongue. Jehan felt his fists clench; they were on the brink of getting Cosette help, and this stubborn woman was in the way.

Before Jehan could open his mouth, Combeferre held up his hand. "Please, _madame. _She is in dire need of help. Just.. send your girls to their room for a few minutes. We won't be long."

_Madame _sighed and nodded. "Fine. Fine. Come inside." She opened the wide door and watching closely as Joly lifted Cosette up into his arms. He skirted inside easily, shifting the young woman's weight around. _Madame _Renald muttered something in German (for she was of heavy German descent and had grown up around it her whole life, and then went to send her girls to their rooms. When all the doors had been slammed shut, she stood at the top of the large staircase and waved them up. As Joly passed her, she put a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck," she whispered.

"_Merci, madame._"

* * *

Their flat, once they finally reached it, was a welcoming hug. They had gone to the café, and like Enjolras planned, told everyone about the day's events. Many of the men had still been riled up, yelling and cursing Enjolras. He just stood there and took it like the brave man he was, knowing they meant none of the harsh words they were saying. He'd then assured them that they would get revenge, and soon. He'd then sent them home, postponing all meetings until the next Thursday. He needed rest, they all did.

So much rest.

Enjolras fell inside with a grunt and, once the door had closed, he pulled Eponine up flush against him, attacking her lips with her. Eponine struggled and suddenly, he tasted her tears. Enjolars pulled back, staring at her tear stained cheeks. "Eponine?" he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheeks. "Why are you crying?"

Eponine pummeled her fist into his shoulder; Enjolras winced. "This whole damn day, Enjolras! I was so stupid! It was my fault she got rap-"

Enjolras held the back of her head still, frowning as he stared at her. "This is not your fault. I never want to hear you say something like that again!"

Eponine sobbed, nodding her head. "I'm not your whore," she whispered, dejected.

The revolutionary sighed and hugged Eponine against himself, sighing. "Jehan was simply angry. He didn't mean it."

Eponine sniffled and pressed a soft kiss to the skin of Enjolras' neck. "God... it still hurts, though."

Enjolras pulled back and kissed her forehead. "No one is blaming you except yourself, Eponine. Let's forget about it tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go visit her, alright? I'll send word for Combeferre to tell us where she is."

Eponine nodded and rubbed her red eyes. "I'd like that." Enjolras smiled wearily and kissed her again, this time, softer.

"Would you do me a favor, Eponine?" he asked quietly. She raised her eyebrows. "Sleep with me tonight."

She laughed harshly. "Enjolras! We've been going at it for days now; I would thin-"

"No. Just.. sleep. I don't want to be alone."

Eponine then nodded, and took his hand firmly. "To be honest," she whispered as he pulled back the covers. "I'd rather not be alone either."

* * *

Cosette had still not woken up. Ansell had said it wouldn't be a problem, but if she stayed out cold until late morning, he would give her something to wake up. Jehan felt the effects of sleep and anguish settle on his shoulders, but he wouldn't allow himself to go to bed; not now.

Joly and Combeferre had long since left. Combeferre needed to stop by Enjolras' flat, telling him where Cosette was and when he could see her; he also needed to stop by and find her father. Joly needed to return home and relay all the information to his Musichetta. They had done all they could do. Ansell had looked over Cosette twice. There wasn't really much that he could do, but he gave her something to help with the pain she would experience and he wrapped up a large gash that had been discovered. It ran from her hip to her ribs and needed a small amount of stitching. Jehan had been particularly quiet, holding Cosette's hand the whole time.

He rested his head on the edge of the sterile white bed. Ansell, understanding Jehan, had allowed him to stay the night. The old man was on the opposite end of his apartment, doing whatever he did in the evening.

Jehan felt an absent tear slid down his cheek. He couldn't count the number of tears he'd used up; much more than he usually did. He heard a small moan, and he knew it was not his own. Jehan's head snapped up and he moved to his feet, bending over Cosette. His hand pressed against her forehead, he watched with eager eyes as her eyelids fluttered, and soon, her blue eyes connected with his grey.

Jehan felt a smile tug at his lips. "Cosette," he breathed, running a hand through her hair. "Cosette?"

Cosette's lower lip puckered, as if she were about to cry, but she pulled it in and sniffed. "Jehan? Where am I?"

Jehan had never heard a voice so sweet, or words so pleasing. He nearly fainted from relief. He planted a messy kiss to her forehead. "You're at a doctor's home, Cosette, dear," he whispered, settling back down in his chair.

Her brow furrowed. "Why? What happened? Where-"

"Cosette, Cosette. You were.. attacked at the rally today. Do you not remember?"

Cosette winced and nodded. "Of course I remember."

Jehan blushed. "I'm sorry. I'm so relieved that you're okay." He held her hand to his lips. Cosette shifted and groaned. He pressed a hand against her shoulder. "No. No, don't try and move, darling."

"I hurt, Jehan," she moaned.

Jehan nodded sympathetically. "I know. I know. But you have to be strong. Ansell says you'll be able to leave in no time; just a few days. You're gonna be alright.." Cosette smiled weakly, and Jehan frowned slightly. "I know it may be too fresh, but, I need to know, who.. who did this to you?"

Cosette's face darkened and she looked away, the first tears creating a shining track down her cheek. Jehan brushed it away and kissed her temple.

"You don't have to say if it's too-"

"Pierre-Marie Gery."

Jehan felt time stop. "What?"

"Pierre-Marie Gery," she repeated, her eyes cold. "He was the one."

The world tilted. It took a moment for her words to register. Jehan stood up, as if being moved by a puppet master. He knew exactly where to go, where to find the hound that had done this to his Cosette. As he passed the bed, she reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Jehan, wait! Jehan, darling, please! Sit down. You're not thinking clearly!" He didn't listen and wrenched the doorknob with his hand, his heart beat in his ears.

Cosette, weak, tired, hurt emotionally and physically, needed her Jehan more than anything. If he left to go find Gery, there was no telling what he would do. She needed him to stay, for her safety and his own. God, she didn't even know that he knew the man! So few did. So, she played the only card she knew would keep him by her side.

"Jehan," she said softly. The door halfway open stopped at the sound of her tone. "I love you; I need you. Please don't go..."

* * *

_Two things: I am really sorry if this chapter was too long. I never meant for it to be like near 3,000 words because I know as a reader on here, I hate it when the chapters are so long all I can focus on is when it's going to end. That being said, it was near 3,000 words because so much needed to happen. Were things cleared up okay? _

_Secondly, left you with another little thought about Gery. At first, I had him be Montparnasse, but then I was like, "That's dumb. No." And thus, Gery was born. Make some guesses as to who he is! Let me know what you're thinking!_

_Love, Jess_


	19. The Blood of Angry Men

_Thanks for reviewing, guys. :D Much appreciated. Because I promised awhile ago, this chapter is solely J/C. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C_

_The Blood of Angry Men_

Gery, a tall, well-built, brown haired man, snorted, threw money down on the bed, and stalked out of the Red Light District. He was disappointed; the woman he'd bought was hardly anything compared to Cosette. God, Cosette. It had been such a surprised when he'd seen her across the way earlier in the day.

In their childhood, Cosette and Gery had become accomplices. Gery's mother would often go to Cosette's "father's" inn, and Gery would help Cosette sneak out the back door so they could go find something to eat. As they got older, Cosette and Gery grew closer, and the two had made a pact to run away and grow old together. Then, a man had shown up and taken her away. Gery hadn't seen her since. He never did forget their promise, and he intended to keep it, too.

Which was the problem.

By finding Cosette at the rally, Gery had also been shocked to see her hanging around one of _Les Amis. _Gery and _Les Amis _were not on good terms. He'd been part of the group for awhile in the very beginning stages. But, like always, Gery had jumped to conclusions one night when he was very drunk. He assumed the woman walking down the street before him was Cosette; their hair was the same, their height should be the same, and the dark wasn't helping him. So, he'd sort of jumped her. It turned out that the woman was Courfeyrac's mistress. And when word got around _Les Amis, _Gery high-tailed it out of there.

Gery knew the only way to bring Cosette along was by force. So, he had waited until she was semi-alone, and then he'd jumped her, like he had the mistress. Cosette had struggled greatly, which surprised him even more. But it made taking her all the better. When it was over, he let her drop to the ground in a pile of blood and mess. The amount of blood was startling. He had backed up and garbled something before rushing away.

What he had done was wrong, but he didn't care. Hopefully, she would give birth, and then she'd have to come crawling to him; she couldn't have a scandal on her hands, what with her father's business.

_Yes, _Gery thought. _This could work out._

* * *

Jehan felt the air still in his throat as he looked down at Cosette. Was this all a horridly wonderful dream? Would he wake up in the morning knowing she was safe, yet she had not uttered those words? In a sick way, Jehan wished it was all real. He wished he could spare Cosette from whatever is was that she felt, but it would also mean she never would have said that she loved him.

And he didn't know whether or not she would say it if nothing had ever happened.

"Jehan, please," she drew out, his breath ragged.

He moved to the side of the bed and gently pushed her back onto the mattress. "Cosette, you need rest," he admonished. The pills Ansell had given her must have kicked in; otherwise, she would never say that she loved him. In no way could a woman like her love a man like him.

A man so obsessed with the ideas and trifles of love. A man so bent on saving France, the world. The man who sometimes cared too much for his house plants. Or sometimes fed his cat a little too much because he was nervous he had forgotten earlier, when he knew he hadn't, but he did anyway just to make sure.

Jehan, the man who had once considered adopting a young child he'd grown fond of that wandered the streets, only to find her stone-cold dead the morning he intended to ask her to stay. Jehan, the man who seemed so bright, so content. Jehan, the same very man who had once tried to end his own life because of his deep rooted sadness that no, never would someone love him.

But then Cosette had come along and he swore she could complete the whole rebellion in one day if she merely walked up the steps of the palace, said a few words to the king, and flashed him a sweet smile. Cosette who was so fragile and perfect and everything that he had every wanted. And he had let himself believe that she loved him when she was using it to make him stay, just so he was safe. He remembered their first kiss and how it was stolen and on his own accord; how she'd been so unresponsive and they hadn't spoken for days after. And the time they'd been in the attic and she'd been kissing him so reverently, he was afraid she was going to give herself to him then and there, but he was so thankful when her father showed up because he couldn't allow her to do that, but he didn't know if he had enough strength to say no.

If he tried hard enough, he could see a future with her. A home, a few children, maybe a couple of cats. He wanted that, dear God he did. But was she being serious? Was she telling the truth? Jehan always liked to think that he knew with her, but this time, he was lost.

And that scared him more than he was willing to admit.

"Jehan," she whispered, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked away from the wall and back to her. She was nestled in the covers quite comfortably, her hair a halo around her head. Her eyelids were drooping, of that he was sure. She was getting tired; the medicine was kicking in. He sighed. Her words had been of sleep-induced feelings, nothing more.

Still, he found himself taking her hand in his.

"What is it, love," he whispered, moving some of the stray hairs off her forehead.

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry, her brain sleepy. "I meant it, you know," she whispered back, squeezing his hand.

He cocked his head to the side. "You meant what?"

"That I love you."

He let out a short laugh that came out a little too harsh. "Get some sleep, Cosette." She shook her head, and he shook his, shushing her when she began to speak. He held her cheek in his palm. "Please, you don't have to lie to me." He smiled sadly.

She frowned and Jehan rubbed his thumb over the spot where the crinkles appeared, smoothing them out. She swatted his hand away and held his wrist tightly. "I'm telling the honest to God truth, Jehan."

Jehan looked away and bit the inside of his cheek. He was being silly and she was tired; they would talk about it in the morning, but Jehan had better things to do than listen to Cosette try and convince him of her lies. Slowly, he bent forward and kissed her forehead.

"Sleep well, Cosette. I'll be right over in the chair if you need me."

As he pulled back, he noticed that she was still frowning and the rims of her eyes were turning red from either tiredness or sadness. He chose not to react and instead, settled down in the incredibly hard chair positioned beside her bed. After a few moments of tense silence, and Cosette staring holes into Jehan's closed eyes, he heard her huff, sniffle, and rearrange herself. When he slowly opened his eyes, he was relieved to see her in the beginnings of a sleep.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Gery; that was his most important problem at the moment. Jehan knew where the bastard lived. In fact, they could be considered neighbors. When he was sure Cosette was asleep, Jehan stood up, blew out the lamp, and exited the room.

Though Cosette may not truly love him, Jehan sure as hell loved her, and he was going to skin the little twerp that had hurt her until his hands were shaking.

* * *

Gery was lucky he was not drunk. If he had been, Jehan would have been able to kill him easily. Gery was right and well as he walked along the cobblestone road with purpose. He wanted to get home, take a cold bath, and sleep. The next day, he would find where she was and feign remorse for her predicament, because he certainly hadn't done it.

Gery chuckled and whistled as he quickened his pace. Paris at night was nasty. He knew too well what lurked out there, so when a fist landed directly against his nose and a deafening crack hit the air, he wasn't really too surprised. He fell back clutching his bleeding nose, whirling to see who had done such a thing. Immediately, he reached for his switch-blade, the one he carried around for protection.

"I think you'd best throw that down," said a voice from the corner.

Gery whirled once more, feeling blood pour into his mouth. He spat a large chunk on the ground. "If it's money you want, I can get it to you," he stammered. "Just – just wait until tomorrow, if you please. The banks aren't op-"

"Would you shut it?" the voice boomed. "I don't care about your money!"

"Then what is it that you want?"

Jehan stepped from the shadows, his own switch-blade drawn. "I want to make you suffer like you made Cosette suffer."

It took a moment for Gery to realize that the man before him must be of some importance to the woman he raped early on in the day. It made him chuckle with a dry humor. That spurred Jehan on well enough and before he knew it, he was pummeling the man into a mess of blood, sweat, and tears. There was no stopping him. Nothing in the world could take Jehan away from at least trying to make the sick creature below him feel a fraction of the pain Cosette had.

Gery's switch-blade was flung to the side when Jehan pulled his arm back dangerously far. His teeth were gritted tightly and all he saw was red: red from anger, red from the blood now covering his shirt, red from the blood on Gery, and red from the blood of Cosette.

_Red, the blood of angry men. _

Hadn't Enjolras said something like that once?

As his resolve weakened and Jehan felt his arms slowing down, he fell back against the cobblestone with a grunt. Gery was lying in the road, bent at an odd angle that couldn't be healthy. Jehan didn't know whether he was dead or alive, so tentatively, he crawled forward and pressed his fingers to the man's throat. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a faint heartbeat.

Gery jerked suddenly and gasped loudly. Jehan moved away again. He glanced at his hands, then at his dirty work. Cosette would never be able to look at him now, not after what he had done. Sighing, the good in Jehan came through and he scooped the man up and over his shoulder, feeling no shame as he tossed him around. He made the slow trek back to the square and dropped his near lifeless body on the front step of the greediest doctor in Paris.

Gery groaned something and reached for Jehan's ankle, but the other man shook him off. He didn't feel the way he thought he would: accomplished, proud. He felt weak and alone. Still, he made the trek back to Ansell's and skirted past the sleeping old man on the couch. He found the wash basin and did what he could to clear away the mess of blood and snot on his hands and arms and face. His clothes were long past gone and he was too tired to leave Cosette and go home for a change.

Her room was cold to his heated body. He settled down in the chair, like he'd promised, and watched her sleep, knowing sleep could never come now.

* * *

Barely conscious, Gery was being nursed back to health early the next morning. His mother would have steep bills to pay come when his healing process was over.

God; forget Cosette. Jehan was of more importance now.

And luckily for him, he always knew where the chap was. _Les Amis de l'ABC _had another thing coming to them if they thought Gery would be disposed of that quickly.

* * *

_Pain. Undeniable, raw, burning pain. Cosette felt like her whole body was on fire. She wanted to open her mouth, she wanted to scream, but it was as if her jaw was wired shut. She scratched and clawed at whatever she could, but to no avail. The pain never stopped, it didn't seem to have an end. _

_And then suddenly, there was a man with his face all distorted and ugly. She was finally able to find her voice and scream, but he took her hand and..._

"Jehan!" Cosette flew up into a sitting position and groaned a little. The stitches in her side pulled and her middle was terribly sore.

Jehan was by her side in an instant, and she was too dazed to notice the blood on his shirt. He gently pushed her back. "It was only a dream," he said, running a hand over her shoulder. "You're okay. Don't worry, Cosette."

She grabbed onto his arms as he tried to pull away, whispered lowly. "There was this man, Jehan. He was so tall, so frightening."

Jehan looked away, holding back his own tears. "I promise that you're safe from now on."

She smiled faintly and finally fell back against the pillows. "I love you," she whispered, a childish grin on her face.

Jehan felt like he was going to be sick. He stood up. "Yes, Cosette."

* * *

_Maybe not the J/C interaction that you all wanted, but, hey, what are you gonna do? Drop me a review or PM or whatever!_

_Thanks again to Judy-BB for all that she does for me. :)_

_Jess_


	20. Aller le Hôpital

_Sorry that this came later than expected. My brain has been a little slow lately._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Aller le H__ô__pital_

Enjolras, clutching Eponine's hand tightly, peeked into the room in which Cosette was situated. It was well past noon, and still, the woman was asleep, as was Jehan. Enjolras sighed and closed the door.

"Maybe we should come back later," he whispered, careful not to wake them.

Eponine shook her head and squeezed Enjolras' hand. "We came earlier this morning and that's what you said. It's later now. I don't think they'll mind if we wake them up. At least talk to Jehan, huh?"

Enjolras ran a hand over his face, letting go of Eponine's hand. In the very small corridor, only a bare whisper was needed. Ansell was treating other patients at their own homes and he had welcomed the other two in with open arms. Downstairs, in the girls' home, Eponine could hear squeals of laughter and petty fights. She shifted on her toes and crossed her arms. Enjolras took deep breaths and then sighed, dropping his hand away from his face.

"Eponine, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but his shirt is splattered with blood-"

"Cosette's maybe?"

Enjolras looked away and shook his head. "No. He never picked her up. More than likely, Cosette knew who the man was, as did Jehan. I'm not sure I'm ready to face a potential murderer."

Eponine swallowed an incredulous laugh. "Are you kidding me, Enjolras?"

He looked back at her sharply. "No. Why?"

"You – You think _Jehan _is a killer?" She laughed shortly and held her arms even tighter. As brilliant as Enjolras was, there were many times when Eponine wondered if there was a considerable hole in his logic department. Jehan, of all people, could never be capable of killing someone.

Enjolras itched his ear and sniffed, looking down on the floor.

This time, Eponine really did laugh. His face colored and he crossed his arms. "You do! You think Jehan killed the man. Dear God, Enjolras, don't be so daft. I mean, Jehan may be-"

The door opened, and because Enjolras was leaning on it, he stumbled in, directly onto Jehan. This heightened Eponine's laughter into near squeals. She felt like one of the school girls downstairs. Enjolras spun around on his heel and backed up a few steps.

"Jehan," he breathed.

The other man, tired, remorseful for everything he had done, closed his eyes briefly. "Enjolras," he paused and glanced at Eponine, who had regained control of her giggling. "Eponine."

Eponine took a step around Enjolras and entered the room fully. She surveyed Jehan's bloodstained shirt, slightly shaking hands, and tired eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. Cautiously, she placed a hand on his arm. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "I am.. very tired."

"I'm sorry if we woke you," Enjolras spoke up. "We came earlier and.."

"I heard."

"Oh.." Enjolras glanced at Cosette, sleeping in bed. "So you heard my-"

"Suspicions that I am a killer? Yes." Enjolras winced, ashamed he'd ever said anything so close to where Jehan was. "I can assure you, I did not kill anyone." Eponine turned around and gave Enjolras a harsh look. "I may or may not have beat Pierre-Marie Gery into a pulp, but I could never kill anyone." He sent Eponine a soft smile of understanding. She blushed and backed up.

Enjolras sighed. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, _mon ami._"

Jehan shrugged. "It has been a very trying few days for us all. And, Eponine, I sincerely apologize for calling you what I did. I never meant a word of it. My anger blinded me."

"It is forgotten."

With apologies out of the way, Enjolras took a step forward, narrowing his eyes. "Did you say Pierre-Marie Gery was the man you beat?"

Jehan nodded, a grim look on his face.

"I – I thought he was gone for good," Enjolras stuttered, hands on his hips, looking at the floor.

Eponine frowned. "Who is he?"

Jehan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "He was part of _Les Amis_, for a very short while, during the beginning stages of the group."

"He assaulted Courfeyrac's mistress and that was the last straw," Enjolras filled in.

Eponine smirked and raised an eyebrow. "What was the first?" Both men, not finding any humor in the situation, gave her pointed looks and Eponine shut up, twitching her nose.

"He's a dangerous man," Jehan said.

"How so? He seemed as if he could hardly harm a fly a few years ago."

Jehan held up a finger and nodded. "That's what it is: a few years ago. He's filled out; he's much larger and obviously stronger than he was. He can put up a good fight, too. Providing that he's still alive, be in no doubt that he _will _come to us, Enjolras."

Enjolras nodded and resisted the urge to wrap an arm around Eponine's waist. He glanced at her, where she was picking at a string on Cosette's blanket. He turned back to Jehan. "What do you suggest we do?"

"Wait it out – for now, at least. Cosette's still too weak to be moved. He probably knows where she is. He and Joly were close. The two often frequented Ansell's together."

Enjolras ran a hand over his face again. Would he never catch a break? In a matter of two months their rebellion was at least roughly planned. That was, unless, anything else spurred it closer. He was so swamped with everything. He and Combeferre still had their own rallies to plan, plus one more local one to attend.

Eponine raised her head. "How are you _really, _Jehan? You seem.. lonely."

The poet smirked harshly. "I'm hardly lonely. _Elle est ici,_" he said, gesturing toward the girl on the bed. Enjolras and Eponine both shared a look; she was in no way good company.

"She doesn't count."

Jehan closed his eyes and fitted a small smile onto his face. "I'm fine, Eponine. _Merci._"

Eponine opened her mouth to protest, but Enjolras glared her down, saying, "And what of Cosette's father? Has he been informed yet?"

Jehan nodded earnestly. "Certainly. He should be arriving any moment. Combeferre told him last night, on his way home, I think."

"Good. Good. Well, Jehan, we will be in to check on you and Cosette later on this week. Try to get some rest." Enjolras patted his friend's shoulder and cocked his heard toward the door at Eponine. She gave Jehan a sheepish smile and nod, then skirted out the door.

"Thank you, Enjolras," Jehan said, following his leader to the door. "You didn't need to come, anyway, not after what I said."

In the hall, Enjolras turned around and shook his head. "All is wiped clean, Jehan."

Jehan uttered another '_merci_'then closed the door.

* * *

Valjean could not spur his horses fast enough. When a young man with glasses game to the convent the night before, Valjean had been out with several men in a desperate attempt to find Cosette. She had been missing the whole day and it was well past dark. Valjean had never been so afraid in all his life.

Unfortunately, he had not gotten the message until late that morning, when the search group returned home empty-handed. The message was concise, written in tiny lettering, given to him by a somber nun. As he had opened the note, his heart clenched in anticipation.

_Monsieur, _

_I regret to inform you that Mademoiselle Cosette has befallen an injury of sorts. She is being treated by Monsieur Ansell, a doctor located above Madame Renald's boarding school. We have not left her alone. _

In haste, Valjean had dropped the note and called for the quickest horse. Now, he was flying down the street. Finally, he came to the _madame's _school. He dismounted in a flurry and pounded on the door. It opened a few moments later.

The woman behind the door had her mouth open, ready to yell, but she closed it once she realized who the man must be. Slowly, she stepped back and pointed toward Ansell's practice. Valjean thanked her quietly and bounded up the many steps, two at a time. Upon reaching the door to the practice, Valjean didn't wait to knock or even call out; he pushed the door open and walked straight in.

Ansell looked up from his desk and set the pen down. "Ah, _monsieur. _We've been waiting for you," he said somberly. "Come this way." It took a moment, but in his old age he was able to walk down the hall fast enough. He knocked once on the door where Cosette was resting, and then he opened it with a flourish, stepping aside so Valjean could go in first.

Jehan stood up from his chair in the corner, thankful Ansell had checked on Cosette a few moments earlier and let him borrow a new shirt. Valjean paid no mind to the young man in the corner and instead dropped to his knees by the edge of the bed.

Cosette had just fallen back asleep. Running his hand over her arm, Valjean turned to look at Ansell, a very worried look in his eye. "What happened?" he croaked, emotion closing his throat.

The doctor shifted on his feet and glanced at Jehan. "I think the young man would be better suited to tell you, _monsieur. _I am only a doctor."

Valjean closed his eyes and looked at Jehan, recognizing him immediately. "Jehan, was it?" he said, frowning. "We seem to meet on awkward terms, son."

Jehan stepped away from the corner, blushing. "Yes, _monsieur. _And for that, I apologize."

"Tell me what happened."

"Cosette attended a revolutionary rally a night or so ago, against the better judgment of myself and a dear friend. In the flurry of people, we lost sight of her only to find her again later." He swallowed and braced himself. "She had been raped, _monsieur._"

"Oh sweet God," Valjean whispered, turning back to his daughter.

"She knew the man and he has been dealt with," Jehan added.

Without looking away from Cosette, Valjeaned said, "And where do you fit into all of this?"

"I was there. I – I brought her here. I've stayed until you came."

"_Merci, gar__ç__on. _This will not go unforgotten." Jehan, hands in front of him, nodded. "You may go."

Jehan took a step forward, hesitant to reach for Cosette. "_Monsieur, _your daughter-"

Valjean looked up, his anger flashing. "I said you may go."

Jehan took a deep breath. Her father need to know Jehan's intentions. They had met in two odd situations before: in the garden very long ago, and in the attic not so long ago. Jehan still felt embarrassed every time he came in contact with his love's father.

"_Monsieur, _I love your daughter."

Valjean sighed deeply and looked away from Cosette for a moment. "I'm sure you do."

Jehan glanced at his toes. "I tell the truth. I love her with my whole heart, and I believe that possibly, maybe, she could love me, too."

Valjean ran a hand over his face and stood up, his hand clutching Cosette's. "Why are you telling me this?"

Jehan, his hands shaking, licked his lips. It was now or never. He could do this. "I would like your permission to marry her, _monsieur._" Jehan saw the man's grip tighten. "Would you at least consider it?"

Valjean looked down at his sleeping daughter. The boy – man – before him had good intentions, Valjean could see. He had stayed with her for days at the hospital, he was respectful and generous. But what of his doings? If he was involved in that – that group of boys who thought they could change France, well, that would put a damper on things. She could get killed! Still, he saw how happy the man made her in the fleeting seconds he had seen them together. Yes, she loved him.

It had finally happened: _he _had appeared to whisk her away and Valjean could do nothing to stop it.

"It has been considered." Jehan swallowed, expecting a no. "You may marry my daughter." Jehan felt a smile spread across his face. "On one condition!"

Jehan nodded. "Anything, _monsieur._"

"You live for her. You're involved in this.. rebellion and you must live."

Jehan let go a shaky breath. "Of course, _monsieur. _I wouldn't dream of anything else. Thank you. Thank you!"

Valjean gave a weary smile and shook the young man's hand. "You may go now, though. I would like a few moments."

"Yes. Yes, _monsieur. _Thank you again." With a broad smile, Jehan kissed Cosette's hand and left the room. As the door closed, Cosette's eyes flitted open.

"Did you mean it, Papa?" she rasped.

Valjean smiled. "Yes, Cosette. You may marry him."

* * *

_I am not happy with this chapter __at all__. It's not really a filler, but yet it is. Ugh. I'm sorry for the poop that this chapter is. As for the rest of this story, I'm estimating four/five more chapters, and maybe an epilogue. Thanks for sticking with me guys!_

_Jess_


	21. Impromptu Engagements

_I hope this chapter can make up for my poopy one. _

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Impromptu Engagement_

A week or so later, after Cosette had been let out of Ansell's with a clean bill of health, Valjean, looking suddenly more weary and old by the day, allowed his daughter to go back to the café, making her promise that she would stay seated the whole time and not get too excited. It was the twenty-fourth of May and Cosette knew full well Enjolras was gearing for the barricades to at least be ready sometime soon. With the news of General Lemarque's sudden illness, they _all _had a heightened sense of fear and nerves. If he died within the next few days, it would be a sign.

Jehan had visited several times within the past week, when she was on bed-rest in the convent. Cosette felt perfectly fine. Her side ached from the large cut and her legs were a little stiff from not walking as much as she was used to, but over all, her health was slowly returning back to normal. Her emotional stage, though, was expectantly different. She felt tired all the time. And not a I-need-sleep sort of tired, but a can't-this-all-just-end sort of tired. Her bright and cheer nature was replaced with a solemn look and weary smile. Cosette knew that she was lucky to be alive, but she couldn't help but feel responsible for everything wrong that had happened.

Still, she was excited to get back to the rebellion.

She pushed open the door of the café and was greeted with a dozen emphatic hellos and good wishes. Cosette did her best to smile. Waving slightly to the owner, she skirted into the back room. The men – and Éponine – were deep within their own little conversations when she walked in. They all straightened when the door closed with a soft thud. Cosette shifted on her feet. She didn't know what to expect. Would they be angry? Would they not say a thing about it all?

Éponine, noticing the men's hesitance at speaking, sighed and ran forward to her friend, taking her elbow. "I'm so pleased to see you here, Cosette," she whispered. "Enjolras and I visited you, but you were asleep." The woman smiled and led her to a chair beside Jehan. She took the seat beside her, leaning in close. "They don't know what to do. I'm terribly sorry."

Cosette twitched her nose and looked to her left at Jehan, who was standing. "Jehan," she said. "Stop looking like a fool and get on with whatever it was you were doing." She smiled slightly and winked. He coughed, returned her smile, and continued on with his conversations. The men around him looked very thankful Cosette made no show of demanding words of sympathy or anger.

"Why did you do that?" Éponine asked after a moment.

"I don't need them to say anything. Jehan told me what he did with Gery. I heard, as well, that he was locked up on charges of thievery. I just want things to get back to normal."

Éponine nodded and squeezed her friend's hand. "I'm glad that you're back, Cosette."

Cosette sighed. "Me, too."

* * *

After the meeting, and after everyone had made some sort of greeting toward Cosette, Enjolras and Éponine took their leave. Walking along in pleasant silence, Éponine holding Enjolras' books in her arms, Enjolras suddenly stopped in the middle of the road. Éponine groaned and turned around.

"What's your problem? Let's go!" She was itching to get home and fall in her bed and sleep. The past few days had been torture. The Golden Trio had been at it for three days, non-stop. They would stay up late into the night in the living room, speaking about upcoming rallies, the rebellion itself, General Lemarque. Éponine could hardly get any sleep, much less any comfort from Enjolras. She didn't feel as neglected as she thought she would; no, she understood how much all this meant to him. She gladly took the back-burner when it came to his happiness. If the revolution made him happier than she could at the moment, then so be it.

Enjolras itched his cheek and cleared his throat, staring directly at Éponine. She shifted. Éponine loathed it when Enjolras just stared at her; she couldn't tell what was going on in that brain of his, and she was sure she wouldn't know, unless it had something to do with her. And usually it didn't.

"Seriously, Enj. I'm tired. I _will _leave your books and go home without you," she threatened, knowing the threat sounded empty and dead.

"Marry me," he whispered.

Éponine was sure she heard a bluejay fall to the ground in surprise. Stumbling backward slightly, Éponine frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Marry me," he repeated, that same empty, yet searching, look in his eyes.

"Enjolras, what are you saying here?" She hoisted the books up in her arms a little closer, as if to place a wall between the two of them. Marry him? What the hell was he on about?

He closed the space between them, standing close enough so he only had to whisper. "I want to marry you."

"Why? Why me? What about the revolution and-"

He shook his head and covered her mouth with his hand. "Just listen to me. Can you do that?" She nodded and he removed his hand. "I overheard Jehan speaking with Joly tonight. He was telling the other that he will soon be asking Cosette the same question I just asked you-"

Éponine frowned and interrupted. "Are you trying to show Jehan up? 'Cause if you're using me for that, that's a sick, cruel joke and-"

"_Éponine!_"

She blushed and looked at the ground. "Sorry.."

"Would I ever do that to you?" he asked softly, holding her chin in his hands. She shook her head. "Thank you. Now, his reasons for asking Cosette to marry him are simple: he loves her and they've admitted that. My reason for wanting to marry you is slightly different. The rebellion is coming up fast. I can nearly.. I can nearly hear it, Éponine. In order to make plans, just in case we live through this, I must marry you. If we survive, which I doubt that we will, I want you to be by my side always. I can't risk letting you run through France a wanted criminal without me there to help you. So, if we are married, I can take you with me, legally. Your parents won't be able to come and find you or take you away.

"I want you to be my wife, Éponine, because then we can be on the run together. It doesn't sound glamorous, or at all like anything that you deserve, but at least we'll be together. I don't know where we'll end up, but that won't matter. We will be together and we will be _alive._" His hands resting firmly on her shoulders, Enjolras awaited her response. For him, that was nearly a love confession. Éponine could live with it, for now.

She was going to be honest with herself, too. She loved him. She had for a long time. And if they survived the revolution, they would be together. And it would all be fine. Yes, his plan made sense. But that didn't mean it filled the whole in her heart. Why couldn't he just say it? It would make it all easier. Then.. Then she would _know._

"I – I will marry you, Enjolras," she whispered, not feeling the lightness she figured she should feel. She looked up from the ground, jaw set tightly. Enjolras hardly noticed her subdued mood, though she was not surprised. It was something she had grown used to: his disregard for noticing other's feelings.

He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead and Éponine's heart fluttered. "Thank you," he whispered against her skin. "Now I know that you'll be safe. Come on; I have a priest lined up."

Éponine laughed coldly. "How would you know that I would accept?"

Enjolras shrugged, that lovely crooked smile on his face. "I didn't know. I could only hope," he replied, taking her hand and the books from her arms.

Éponine sniffed and wiped her nose. "Enjolras," she whispered. _Might as well. _

"Yes?"

"I think I've fallen in love with you.. and I didn't even mean to."

He smirked and pressed her hand, leaning down to kiss her temple. "Oh, Éponine. I love you,_ aussi. _I've been meaning to tell you, so you didn't get the wrong idea, but it must have slipped my mind. _Je regrette, mon amour._"

Éponine threw her arms around Enjolras' neck and kissed his cheek. "I will most certainly marry you now, then."

He laughed loudly, the sound reverberating against Éponine's chest. "If that's all it took, I should have asked you long ago."

* * *

On the opposite end of town, Jehan slowly walked Cosette home. He had her tucked against his side, an arm snug against her waist. Cosette was silent, but Jehan expected that. He had grown increasingly worried when Valjean told the boy one afternoon of his health. He was planning on leaving, not able to face Cosette in his fragile state. He did not want her to know of his plans, so he asked Jehan to speed up his engagement. And if possible, their marriage. He wanted her out of the convent and away when he got so sick she could hardly recognize him.

Jehan, like Enjolras, stopped and turned Cosette to face him. She looked up with sad eyes and he sighed, brushing the hair away from her face. "Why don't you believe me whenever I tell you that I love you?" she whispered.

Jehan smiled wearily. "I do. I do believe you."

"Well, why didn't you?" She could clearly remember telling Jehan of her love, and him not responding. At the time, it didn't click, but now, the memory stung deep.

"Because you're too good for someone like me."

Cosette frowned. "I don't want to hear you talk like that, Jehan," she pleaded. "Really. I love you, and it is _I _who does not deserve you. You stayed by my side when I was sick.. and.. And I'm grateful."

Jehan, at a loss for words, merely kissed Cosette soundly. "Will you marry me?" he whispered. Cosette hummed. "I said," he chuckled. "Will you marry me?"

"I heard you the first time. That was a yes."

Jehan pulled Cosette close. "I'll take care of you."

"I know," she whispered into his shoulder. "I'm only worried for Papa. He seems awful down."

Jehan stilled and his eyebrows twitched. "I'm sure he's fine," he lied. "Let's go tell him the news, huh? I'm sure he'll be surprised." Jehan smiled down at the woman who smiled back up at him. She nodded, her teeth touching her bottom lip.

"And, Cosette?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I love you, too."

* * *

Enjolras stopped Éponine, his wife, at the door. She snickered and put her hands on her hips. "_What_,pray tell, are you doing?"

"I am going to be a gentleman and carry my wife over the threshold."

She shook her head and backed up against the wall, smiling widely. "No. No, Enjolras, please. You'll wake the neighbors!" she whispered, harshly.

Enjolras shook his head, stalking forward, his eyebrows rising, a smirk playing across his lips. He reached out his hands and wiggled his fingers, nodding now. "I'm doing this, Éponine."

"No! Please," she pleaded.

Unceremoniously, he stooped down and grabbed her waist, throwing her effortlessly over his shoulder. She squealed into the cotton of his shirt and he spun around, nearly hitting her head onto the side wall. "Hush, wife! You'll wake the neighbors!"

Éponine scowled and hit his back. "Put me down, Enjolras!"

He opened the door, kicked it in, and gently set her back down on the floor, closing the door with his heel. Éponine frowned and punched his shoulder.

"What was that for?!"

"Being such an ass!"

Enjolras pouted and held her shoulders. "Is that any way to speak to your husband?"

Éponine nodded and jutted her chin. "Certainly."

Enjolras shook his head and kissed her nose, her cheek, her jaw. "I don't agree."

"You don't have to. We rarely agree after all," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. Enjolras scooped her up from her waist and carried her to the bedroom, dropping her onto the bed with a plop.

He freed himself of his skirt and shoes then crawled across the bed, helping her with the laces of her dress. "That may be so," he said after the silence had been too long. "But I intend to make it up to you."

Éponine looked over the back of her shoulder. "How?" She raised an eyebrow.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and groaned, pulling her down beside him on the bed. "Hush, wife," he said again, the word causing both of their stomachs to flip. "And let me love you."

* * *

_There is literally so much fluff in this chapter, it's almost painful. Drop me a note, dears!_


	22. Beating of the Drums

_And now for a super long author's note:_

_This chapter is also set up a lot differently from the rest, and not much is going on (that will come in the future chapters), but I felt the need to parallel E/E and J/C throughout the first part of the chapter. That's one of the reasons this chapter is so short, which again, I apologize for. I like for my chapters to be at least 2,000 words, but that didn't happen. It is also why this jumps around SO DANG MUCH! I didn't really like that, but in the end, it was about the parallels. If this chapter was complete 'ugh' and is really confusing, I'm sorry. I just needed to satisfy my need for comparisons. Anyway, I hope you – sort of – enjoy. :D _

_(PS. I'm sorry this took so long. Because of trips and stand-stills and the fact that this chapter was just plain hard to write, I just couldn't get this chapter out as fast as I would have liked.)_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Beating of the Drums_

It was here: the day she dreaded and the day he had worked for all those months. The revolution was happening, there was no doubt about that. And as Enjolras shrugged on his famous red jacket, pinning the cockade to his collar, he said, "I will be home in a few days. If I am not home by Sunday, presume that I am dead-"

"Enjolras, please don't say that."

"Eponine," Enjolras laughed bitterly, holding the back of Eponine's head firmly. "Hush. All will be well."

"How do you know that?" she whispered, wrapping her robe tighter.

Enjolras looked toward the window. He needed to leave. The others would be waiting for him. "I don't. I can only hope." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Good-"

"Don't." Eponine shook her head roughly, attaching her hands to his arms, as if touching him would keep him rooted to the ground forever. "I'll see you later." She gave him a weak and terrified smile.

Enjolras pulled his still-relatively-new wife close, feeling his excitement for this day thinning. If he were to die, where would she go? What was life without Eponine? Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he whispered, "I love you."

Eponine held her lips tight to keep from crying. _Be strong for him. _"I love _you._"

With one last parting kiss, Enjolras left in a hurry.

And Eponine felt her arms wrap tightly around her middle, pushing away the fears that nagged at her mind.

* * *

Cosette wrung her hands together, standing at the front convent window. Would he come – come say goodbye? She thought not. Jehan was certain the barricades wouldn't go up as Enjolras planned. But after the news of Lemarque's death, _tous Les Amis _seemed at peace and perfectly fine with the idea that they could die within a matter of days. She gave a defeated sigh and sat down, ringing her hands in her long hair. Her father, frail and sick, sat nearby, smiling softly at her.

"You will be married after this?" he asked quietly. He had tried – with no avail – to find another location for him and his daughter to stay until the fighting was over, but it was no use. He was too sick to be moved that far. Valjean hated feeling so low and vulnerable around Cosette. She didn't seem to mind; she took good care of him.

Cosette nodded sharply, staring out the glass, scanning the streets, hoping to find just a glimpse of her Jehan. "I hope so."

"Why do you sound so lonely, my child? He loves you a great deal."

Cosette glanced at her lap. "I know." She looked back up and her heart lifted, but soon fell back down, if only slightly. She'd hoped to see Jehan, but instead, saw Eponine, adorned in boy's work clothes, heading for the back of the convent. Cosette smiled to herself; she'd followed through.

One would think that Cosette and Eponine would have learned their lesson when they went against their lovers wishes before, but alas, they had not. Both Jehan and Enjolras rightfully ordered them – very sternly, in fact – that they were under no circumstances allowed to even be within one hundred yards of the barricade. But Cosette and Eponine felt that they had just as much right as any to be present. After all, they had attended most of the meetings, pitching in their opinions here and there.

Upon hearing the back door slam shut, Cosette rose slowly. "Which is why I must take my leave, Father." She hurried forward before her father could say anything, bent down, and pressed a short kiss to his cheek. "I love you."

Valjean attempted to reach for Cosette's hand as she flew down the hall, but he was too weak to even raise his voice. "Cosette!"

And it broke his heart.

* * *

Enjolras finally had his mind set on the rebellion. Nothing else. Not his wife, not the letter he'd received informing him of his dying mother, nothing.

He didn't think about how Eponine had attempted her hand at cooking the previous morning as he shuffled in with the rest of the men to the front line of the waiting crowd. He didn't think about how she had brunt herself, pouting ferociously at her failure, much to his amusement. When the procession began to pass, he didn't think about how she never raised a fuss when he forgot an important date: like how he had forgotten her birthday the week before. She had only smiled, tousled his hair, and shrugged. When Enjolras felt his heart swell as the people around him stirred with anticipation when the casket-carrying carriage came into few, he certainly wasn't thinking about her strawberry scented hair, or her perfectly olive skin. When it finally came time for action, and he darted forward with Marius toward the carriage, he wasn't thinking about how much he loved the _feel _of her.

No. Enjolras only had his mind focused on his work.

And it felt freeing.

* * *

Therefore, because Enjolras _was not _thinking about his wife, Jehan was, of course, only thinking about Cosette. As he acceded the carriage, he thought on how he hadn't said a proper goodbye. That thought alone made him want to turn around and abandon the whole ordeal. He had promised the dying Valjean that he would take care of his daughter.

He intended to.

But if this all went wrong, if he died – He didn't want to think about that possibility, because it was a huge one. As much as he adored his friends, and wanted to fight with them, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that leaving Cosette behind was the wrong thing to do. Try as he might, he just couldn't focus on what he wished he could.

And that made him want to give up. Because leaving Cosette behind, alone, seemed like the cruelest thing a man could do.

* * *

Running as fast as their legs could possibly take them, _Les Amis _darted down the cobblestone streets, heading for the café. Courfeyrac looked up, cupped his hands to his mouth, and called for furniture, any kind, to be thrown down. And then it began to rain. Not actual rain drops, but the rain of chairs, dressers, shutters, and even the occasional piano. Like normal, hard-hitting rain, one had to dodge the flying timber in order to not get their head swiped clean off.

There would be time enough for that later.

Enjolras helped push a large fence sort of piece against, what was quickly becoming, the barricade. He turned and searched for Grantaire, who was no where to be found; not that that was any surprise to him. More and more the barricade grew until they finally found it to be adequate, and they had just simply run out of possible additions.

Enjolras stepped back, hands on his hips, nodding. Yes; this could work. Beside him, Combeferre patted his shoulder. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Enjolras knew he should answer yes, and he should answer yes immediately, but it took a moment for the word to come out. Inside, he knew he was not ready. He never would be. If it had been any other day in the past, yes, he would be spitting fire, so ready nothing could stop him. But now, with a wife, with a love, things were different.

So many things were different.

Combeferre drew his hand away and smiled. "Good. For a moment there, it didn't look like you were."

Enjolras scoffed, his heart beating quickly. "I was born ready."

* * *

An hour or so later, while _Les Amis _and some of the tag-along men sat waiting, Jehan Prouvaire could be found lounging on the barricade. The leg of a chair was digging into his back, but he refused to think about it, instead focusing on the locket in his hand. He'd stolen it; it was Cosette's. He'd taken it from a silver chest atop her wardrobe one evening, a week or so back. He didn't think that she had noticed as he slipped it into his pocket, but she had and she understood.

Jehan needed a token, something to remember her by at the barricades. And if it what that necklace, so be it. It wasn't like Cosette wore it anyway.

He twirled it in his hands, worrying over where she was, what she was thinking. He then stole a glance at Enjolras, who seemed very well composed, standing in the café doorway, just waiting, like the rest. Jehan wondered what the man was thinking about. No one else knew that he was married, besides Jehan and maybe Combeferre. Half of them didn't even know that Eponine existed. But Jehan agreed with Enjolras: it was better that way.

Would he and Cosette still be married?

He prayed to God they would be, even if he lost limbs, or was blinded. Whatever happened.

Sighing, his head titled back and hit wood. He caught Enjolas' eye and the man nodded shortly, almost indistinguishably. Just as he was about to make his way over to where Jehan was sitting, a nameless man who had suddenly joined them caught the leader's arm. Jehan sat up a little straighter, thankful he was close enough to hear the man's words.

"Enjolras!" Enjolras' face was stone, slightly irritated the man had stopped him. "There's two boys climbing the barricade."

Enjolras whirled, shared another look with Jehan, and refocused his attention on the top of the barricade, knowing exactly who would appear. And she did; well, they did. And Enjolras looked at her with fire, and for a second, she shrunk back, but then she hopped over the side and strode toward him purposefully. Upon reaching him, both folded their arms; Cosette hung back, staring widely at the men staring at her.

She quirked an eyebrow and whispered lowly, "Husband."

He shook his head, hoping venom shined brightly in his eyes. "_Wife._"


	23. Betrayal

_So.. I was going to apologize for this being so late, but my muse for this story is winding down incredibly. Updates will continue to be slow; I'm sorry. :( I wish it were different._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_Betrayal _

Enjolras licked his lips once and then clasped a hand over Eponine's upper-arm. Well aware of the fact that many pairs of eyes were trained upon them both, Enjolras led her off to a well-hidden corner, rather roughly, beyond pissed. When he was sure they were away from all eyes, Enjolras put his hands on his hips, leaning in close to her face.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered, harshly.

Eponine lifted her chin. "I'm here to help; we both are."

"You bloody well know I told you to stay at home, Eponine!" His fingers clamped over her shoulders again, desperate that she listen.

Eponine struggled to wrench herself free. She stamped her foot, narrowly missing his toes. "We helped you lot plan, too, Enjolras. We deserve to be able to fight!"

"You deserve nothing, but a harsh lecture and me dragging you back home," he spat. It wasn't that Enjolras was angry with Eponine for coming to the barricade; he was more disappointed than anything, and that fueled his anger. He'd been very specific when telling her that she _could not _come to the fighting. Why had he ever thought that she would listen? While she may have somewhat of a point, he still had half a mind to throw her over his shoulder, stalk home, and tie her to a chair.

"You're wrong!" Eponine took a step forward, hitting his shoulder with her balled up fist. He resisted the urge to laugh, because her dainty hands hitting his shoulders was quite comical at the least. "I am going to fight with you! I won't just sit all alone, wondering whether or not you're going to ever come home." She frowned and took a step back, breathing heavily. "If you die, I want to die, too."

Enjolras rolled his eyes, shook his head, and stepped away from her. "Eponine, you're talking nonsense. What if you die and I don't, huh? Did you think of that?" By the look that crossed her face, he could tell that she hadn't. "No. I didn't think so. You never do! If you die and I live, there's nothing left for me; I will have _nothing _that I want. And if I die and you live, where will you go? Don't say Jehan's because he could die, too! I wanted you to stay at home so I knew that you could be safe; just in case, by some slip, I live through this!"

She sighed and crossed her arms, sniffing. After a long silence, letting the words sink into her chest, Eponine gathered the courage to whisper, "What if – What if we just left?" She knew better than to look up to gauge his reaction; he would be livid, she knew. After all the work he had put in to this.. God no, he would never abandon this.

Enjolras counted to ten and then placed his hands on her shoulders; Eponine looked up. "You know full well I can't do that."

"Even if you wanted to?" She brushed a tear off her cheek.

Solemnly, Enjolras shook his head, wrapped Eponine in his arms, and pressed a long kiss to her hair. "Even if I wanted to," he repeated, wishing he had the strength to take her hand and run.

* * *

Jehan watched as the men dispersed around the café, speaking in hushed tones about how oddly Enjolras had acted with that young woman – whoever she was. Soon, they all crammed into the café, hoping to spend one more night together, whole, and obnoxiously drunk. Jehan flitted his eyes over to where Cosette stood, rooted in her place.

She had changed into a set of man's clothing; it was the first time he's seen her in pants and it was rather distracting, if he had to admit that. Which he didn't have to, so he shook the thought away and walked over to her quickly, not exactly sure of his feelings.

"Cosette?"

She looked away from the spot that was so interesting on the ground. "Are you angry?" She took a step back.

His hands raised to take her shoulders, but something in her eyes stopped him. "No."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh... Why didn't you come and say goodbye to me?"

Jehan ran a hand over his face. He had been too scared to; he didn't want to see her cry, didn't want to face the fact that he might not come home. "I was.. too scared." Cosette nodded, her hair falling in front of her face. "How are you feeling?" Cosette still was missing some of the zest that she had harbored since the rally, but Jehan couldn't blame her for being so sullen.

"Fine."

"Cosette, is something wrong?" He took another step forward her, and this time, she didn't flinch or move away; she only shook her head, staring at the ground.

"I'm just worried. I don't want to die so soon.."

Jehan sighed and rubbed the end of his nose, looking away. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he found himself whispering, "Do you want to leave? Both you and I."

Cosette drew away. She stared at Jehan with confidence and wariness at the same time. She looked away in concentration, then looked back. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking me. _I'm _asking _you_."

"That may be so, but, Jehan, you've worked so hard for all of this." Cosette worried her lower lip and put her hands on his forearms. "As much as I love you, and as much as I want us to be together for the rest of our lives, I don't want you to feel like you're a.. traitor." She whispered the last word so low, Jehan nearly missed it. He couldn't help but smile; she was cute when she was secretive.

Jehan took a shaky breath. He couldn't believe he was doing this. His heart crumbled and fell to the tips of his toes. No one must know, but Enjolras and Eponine. Swallowing, Jehan looked over his shoulder. "Let me speak with Enjolras first." He didn't directly respond to her reply, but she nodded once and fell back against a post.

* * *

Enjolras straightened his back and held out his hand. Jehan shook it, weaker than usual. Behind Enjolras, Eponine had a look of sadness and disappointment; Jehan had to look away.

Enjolras nodded once and slipped his hand away from Jehan's. "Godspeed, _mon ami._ Contact us once you reach Italy."

Jehan blinked away the tears threatening to spill over his eyelids. "Of course. _Merci, _Enjolras, for all that you've done for us." Enjolras did nothing, said nothing, and Jehan took it as his farewell. Stepping back on stumbling feet, Jehan glanced at the post Cosette was standing at; she had her hands wringing together before her, her eyes set over the tips of the barricade.

They had lessening daylight, mere hours to reach the port.

Jehan contemplated rushing inside the café and retrieving his notebooks, but then he would have to face them, and he knew he could never do that again. _This is for Cosette; this is for the both of you; this is for the family you are going to have, _he told himself, stepping over and taking her elbow, leading her away from the barricade as quickly and stealthy as possible.

He left his heart and his pride at the barricade.

* * *

_The next morning._

No one had questioned Enjolras about Jehan's whereabouts, and for that, he was thankful; very thankful. He didn't think he would have the resolve to tell them one of their bravest, most loyal, had left. Even if Enjolras had contemplated for one mere second leaving with Eponine, he would _never _follow through on it.

As much as he loved her..

"Enjolras, I counted twice. Jehan is missing." Combeferre came up behind Enjolras, and finally, it was the moment of truth.

"I know," he whispered, his shoulders slouched. Nearby, Eponine wrinkled her nose, wishing she could comfort him, knowing she could not.

Combeferre laughed, nervous or otherwise. "Then where is he?"

"He's gone, 'Ferre," Enjolras replied, keeping his voice low so no others could hear him. "He left with Cosette last evening. He couldn't bear the thought of dying, leaving her alone. They've gone to Italy."

Combeferre took a step back, shaking his head. "No. Jehan would never do such a thing."

Desperate to keep it all a secret, for Jehan's sake, and for the revolution's, Enjolras nearly pushed Combeferre into a corner, holding his shoulder tightly. "You must tell _no one. _I realize this is a great shock to you; it is to me as well. But what's done is done."

Combeferre reluctantly nodded. "What about the others?"

"What about them?"

"Will you ever tell them? Joly and Jehan were quite close.."

Enjolras sighed and took a step back, putting his hands on his hips, glancing at the men quickly gathering around the barricade. A bottle was being passed around the lot of them, and they all reminisced on days gone by. He glanced at his wife, alone by the pillar Cosette had been standing by, picking at her nail. She blended in well; most had not noticed her.

He took a shaky breath and looked back at Combeferre, who was studying Enjolras as intently as Enjolras was studying Eponine. "What is it about that boy that has you so captivated?"

Enjolras felt a slight coloring on his cheeks; he chucked ruefully. "That is no boy."

"A woman?" Combeferre nearly gasped. "At the barricade? What is she doing here?"

"She is my wife." Enjolras smirked, raising his chin slightly.

Combeferre stumbled back against the wall. "Excuse me? I must have heard you wrong!" He laughed nervously. "Did you say.. _wife_?"

"I did indeed, Combeferre. Eponine is her name. You may remember her as Marius' shadow; she has been living with me for some time. We were married a number of days ago."

"Congratulations," Combeferre breathed. "Never thought I would live to see the day.."

Enjolras took a step away from the corner, going to go muster up whatever excitement he could considering that they all could die at any moment. With a curt nod, he said, "You musn't tell anyone else about that either."

* * *

Jehan ran his hands over his face. The ship swayed and creaked. Cosette held her stomach again, reaching for the pail in case she became sick once more. He sat up and ran his hand over her lower back in hopes it calmed her slightly.

Only one day on the ship ; how many more to go? How many more nights of nightmares and guilt would fall upon Jehan? He knew it would probably be for the rest of his life..

God, he felt like he was going to be sick, too.

Was it even worth it? Was leaving the barricade to be safe with Cosette worth all this pain and guilt he was causing himself? They had hardly even stopped to say goodbye to Valjean. It had been quick and vague, and Cosette had cried a lot as they made their way to the port, but she continued to reassure him that this was what she wanted, what _they _wanted.

Was it really what he wanted?

He glanced at Cosette, who had settled her head in his lap, her brow slightly damp from sweat. Brushing his worn fingers over her forehead, he sighed and bent to press a kiss to her temple.

Yes. Half of him wanted this: wanted to be with her for the rest of his days, safe and sound.

But no. The other half was berating him constantly for abandoning _Les Amis _and all that they had worked for.

Cosette shifted in her light sleep, barreling closer to him.

God, as much as he loved her...

He wasn't Enjolras with Eponine. He couldn't stay true to the cause thinking about how he might not ever see Cosette's face again; Enjolras could do that because he was.. Enjolras. But Jehan was more tender, yet intrepid.

And as much as he loved Cosette, as excited as he was to start this new life with her, he always knew some part of him would resent her for this.

And that was scary.


	24. The Difference

_Yeah. Very, __**very **__slow updates. I really apologize for that. _

_It took Brittany (__**insignificantramblings**__)____to get me to actually finish this story, so you can thank her. And yes, with that being said, this is the last chapter (but it's kind of doubles as an epilogue in a way and it's not very long). _

_I do really want to thank you all for sticking with this story. When I first started it, I loved it; but as time went on, I lost a lot of interest in it. It just didn't do it for me anymore and I'm sorry for that. Anyway, thank you for giving it a chance. :D_

_Jess_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**_

* * *

_Pairings: J/C; E/E_

_The Difference_

Enjolras and Eponine survived by the skin of their teeth. In fact, most did, as well. Thanks to a large distraction created by Gavroche and his little friends, _Les Amis _were able to somehow, by the grace of God most likely, over take the National Guards by surprise.

Of course, this doesn't mean lives were not lost.

Among the dead that were found later on in the evening were Feuilly, Bossuet, Bahorel, and Courfeyrac. In the stillness, then, of the night, Eponine and Enjolras stole away for their flat, Combeferre, Joly, and Grantaire in tow. There they spoke quickly and quietly about what to do next. It was decided that they would leave the country. It was not yet certain whether or not they had succeeded or merely succeeded in staying alive.

Enjolras felt they had accomplished both in small ways. But now that it was over, he felt so damn tired. The night they decided to leave, he found himself suggesting Italy; only Combeferre understood the full reason why. He nodded once in agreement. The rest were too tired, too distraught to put up any sort of a fight.

So, it was decided. What was left of _Les Amis _packed few things and fled for the docks where they caught the next ship to Italy. Time dragged on slower and slower it seemed under the ship's deck. Combeferre was still reeling from Courfeyrac's death; Grantaire was just so surprised he had survived; Joly was still scrubbing the dirt and blood from out of his pores. Enjolras sat, alone, in the far corner, picking away at the ship wall with his knife. His face was unshaven and coarse and he hadn't had a bath in days and, quite frankly, they all stunk to high-heaven. Still, from her spot beside Combeferre, Eponine looked over at her husband and stood, moving to take her new place beside him.

Enjolras glanced at Eponine for a moment, then went back to his "wood work." They sat in silence, their fingertips brushing, listening to Joly complain about all the possibly diseases he could be contracting.

"It's amazing, you know," she finally said, nudging Enjolras with her shoulder.

"What is?"

"The difference a couple of people and choices can make."

"I don't exactly follow you."

"What if Jehan had never met Cosette, huh? What if I was stuck on Marius my whole life? What if you had never invited me in? Things could have been a lot worse, Enjolras."

"I suppose you're right," he said, putting his knife away. "But that still doesn't change the fact that Jehan abandoned us, Marius went who knows where, and half of us died."

Eponine smirked and took her husband's hand. "You don't have to spoil everything with your sour mood."

Enjolras kissed the side of her head. "I'm glad I have you here, though. I don't know what I would have done.."

Eponine shook her head and put a finger to his lips. "Hush. It doesn't matter in the end. We did it; we all did."

"I hope you're right."

"I am." Eponine shot him a smug smile and winked. "I'm always right."

* * *

_Three Years Later_

They'd set themselves up once more as the same rag-tag family they'd once been in France. Jehan and Cosette were married several days after Enjolras and his gang found them in Italy after much searching. They all found a section of street not occupied and they created their own French quarter. But, even so, Combeferre began to teach Eponine and the rest Italian after she'd once insulted a man's wife on her clothing (Purely on accident, she claimed). Joly got a medical job once he was fully aware of the Italian people and their language. Grantaire worked solely on his art. Combeferre spent most of his time reading the books he had managed to bring with him and sending for more from home.

Enjolras was torn with what to do when Eponine asked him about his plans for the future. He finally decided on becoming a lawyer after all. He had gone to school for it, anyway. He became a lawyer for the ones who most needed it, but were hard-pressed to pay. He was mostly payed in favors or treats and sometimes money; somehow, they got by. And it was enough. He was happy.

Cosette gave birth to her first child, a girl, a year after they arrived in Italy; her name was Joy. Then, two years after they all first arrived, Eponine gave birth to their first children: twins, a boy named Claude and a girl named Charlotte.

"Do you ever feel bad for leaving?" Cosette asked her husband one evening, handing Joy a toy.

Jehan smiled at his young daughter, then turned to his wife. "Of course." That didn't seem to be the answer that Cosette wanted for she had a confused and disappointed look on her face and her mouth formed the 'o' shape, nodding slightly. "But, dear Cosette, I would not change that choice; I think more good came out of it than bad."

"I can't help but feel that you're slightly angry at me." Cosette leaned back in her rocking chair.

"I was, for a time, when we first arrived," Jehan admitted. "But it feel away after awhile. I can never stay too angry at you for long."

"I think I'm angry at myself, though. I never did say goodbye to Papa. I don't know if he's alive or not." Cosette sniffed and blinked away her tears. She felt consumed with regret for that decision. But what was done was done.

"I do pray that we will go home soon."

Cosette laughed. "You and I both know that's not a possibility at the moment."

Jehan grinned and looked at his wife. "Three more months."

Cosette felt her heart quiver; she put her hands on her rounded stomach. "Three more months."

"I'm so glad I found you. I was afraid you'd never come around."

Cosette blushed. "I'm thankful you stuck by my side for so long."

"Always, Cosette."

* * *

"Enjolras, please be a help and pick Charlotte out of the water. Her fingers are getting all pruney and she was clean long ago!" Eponine fixed her son's shirt and then blew a kiss on his cheek.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and made a face at his daughter, who laughed and splashed the water. He gently lifted her and handed her off to Eponine, taking Claude from her hands. When not one, but two babies were born that day, his life had changed, certainly. At first, it was hell. Two of everything: mouths to feeds, bodies to clothe, two more people to shelter. Enjolras was beside himself with worry and self-doubt. But Eponine had pulled him through with a stern talk on helping out more and just going with his instincts.

Then it had all changed. Enjolras went from being terrified of his children to loving them more and more each day. He was surprised at himself. Once being cold and standoff-ish, he was now more bent to smile instead of frown and he laughed and joked with his friends more than he had used to. A great weight was lifted from his shoulders when the revolution ended. Though he sadness did follow him, and he was haunted by the ones who had died, Enjolras was more free.

Eponine, too, found him a nicer person to be around. He was so kind and gentle and everything she wanted and needed.

Once both children were clothed and sedated for the night, Enjolras and Eponine moved to their backyard, sitting down in the grass. Claude fell asleep instantly in Enjolras' arms; Charlotte's eyes were beginning to droop, but she found her hand to suck on eventually and then she was out.

Eponine turned to Enjolras and gave him a soft smile. "I love you," she whispered.

Enjolras laughed. "I love you, too."

"I'm glad we didn't run after all."

"There was no chance we would have."

Eponine raised her eyebrow. "I know the thought crossed your mind a few times."

Enjolras shrugged. "Maybe it did, but even still, I don't think I actually would have gone through with it."

"Good. I would have been disappointed if you did."

"Thank you, Eponine, for just being you."

Eponine shifted the child in her arms and rolled her eyes. "You're a mess, Enjolras, but you're welcome."

Enjolras grinned. "What do you say we put these kids to bed?"

Eponine laughed and kissed his cheek. "I'll race you to the bedroom after."

* * *

It is amazing the difference several changed circumstances can make.

If Jehan had never stood on that street corner when Cosette walked by, they never would have met.

If Cosette never went to the meeting and was scared away, driving her to the Red Light District, she never would have found out the truth about her mother.

If she never found out the truth about her mother, she never would have wanted to join the revolution.

Likewise, if Eponine had never agreed to letting Enjolras walk her home, he would have remained the same unchanged man he was.

If he had remained unchanged, he would have never fully understood the people he was fighting for.

If he had never understood, he never would have succeeded at anything.

In the end, they all were changed for the better or for the worse. But they had each other, and they had the knowledge that people did the wrong things sometimes and that was okay. They knew that at the end of the day it would all work itself out.

And that was all they needed to get by.

* * *

_I hope this was somewhat of a satisfying ending! Once again, thank you very much for reading._

_Love, Jess. _


End file.
